Like It's Her Birthday
by ReneyyySprouse
Summary: Wendy has a bad habit of being a little uptight. Stan has a bad habit of jumping to anxious conclusions. So just how willing will they both be to change and prove to their friends, to each other, and to themselves how much their relationship truly means to them? A bit smutty, and a bit cute. Stendy.
1. Part One

**_Like It's Her Birthday.  
_** _Part One -_

 _-x-_

Even with what felt like the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, it wasn't anywhere near enough to slow Wendy Testaburger down.

As the gorgeous, seventeen year old senior made her way down the corridor of South Park High School with her long, black ponytail swinging in the air behind her, Wendy had a sort of hurried pep in her step. She quickly began to near the entry to the school cafeteria with hopes that there was enough of the lunch period left for her to actually eat a full meal that day.

Wendy had been swamped with a million and one gruelling tasks lately throughout her ever-growing academic and social lives. The evidence of all these commitments was as clear as day in the form of the mountain of items she was struggling to carry down the hallway. On top of her school bag and regular pile of homework, Wendy was also juggling two huge advance placement chemistry text books, her and Bebe's binder filled to the brink with all their ideas for her best friend's upcoming eighteenth birthday dinner, _and_ she was somehow managing to keep her pom poms tucked under her arm, too.

The teenage girl was certainly almost out of breath as the wide double doors to the cafeteria came just within her reach. Wendy swore for a split second that she could smell the intoxicating scent of a delicious veggie burger beckoning her, when all of the sudden, the heel of her beige coloured wedge fell victim to a small pile of spilled soda on the tiled floor.

Sucking in a sharp, surprised grunt, Wendy felt a twinge of pain rush throughout her body as she inevitably slipped and collapsed on her backside right in the middle of the corridor. Gazing around for a moment and examining the mess of paper and pens and pom poms that her fall had created, Wendy hung her head back with an annoyed groan. Maybe she wasn't going to have enough time to eat lunch today, after all.

Reluctantly shuffling forward in an attempt the collect scattered pile that surrounded her, Wendy found herself freezing for a moment as she felt the presence of somebody crouching down next to her.

"Need a hand, my dear?"

The sound of the voice echoing from beside her made goosebumps pop up over Wendy's arms. As she glanced up at the alluring figure, she felt her heart skip a beat.

"You're such a gentleman," she sang playfully.

As she gazed up at him with a smile glistening in her brown orbs, Stan grinned right back Wendy.

Much to the surprise of absolutely no-one, Stan Marsh had managed to successfully keep his epic romance with Wendy locked down throughout the whole of high school. The two elementary school sweethearts may have definitely had their fair share of slip ups and break ups through grades four, five and six - and even more so once they got to middle school. But by the time they hit ninth grade, both Stan and Wendy agreed that they needed to decide whether their relationship was going to continue along as a silly little third grade crush, or if they were actually going to try and be much more serious about it all, and about each other.

The decision had been a simple one. Stan and Wendy were just far too crazy about one another.

As he scooped up as many of her books and papers in his arms that he could manage, Stan stood up from the ground and reached his free hand down towards Wendy. The faintest possible blush crossed her cheeks as she took his hand in hers and allowed him to pull her up from the floor, too.

"What is all this stuff, anyway?" Stan asked, scanning over the first couple of pages in one of Wendy's books.

She shrugged her shoulders, "Just some more A.P. chem stuff," she answered, suddenly narrowing her eyes as Stan began to flick through the purple, glitter covered binder, " _And_ some top secret stuff for Bebe's birthday dinner that is for girls' eyes _only_!"

Chuckling to himself at the teasing snarl in her voice as she snatched the folder from him, Stan shook his head at his girlfriend, "Relax, I am definitely not interested in sitting around with all you girls while you sip tea and eat crappy food and bitch about each other, or whatever it is you're planning on doing at this dinner - and I'm sure none of the other guys are, either."

"Good," Wendy spat back, sticking her tongue out at him, "It sure is going to be nice to have one peaceful Saturday night all to ourselves without you guys bugging us."

As he finally reached his arm out and pushed open the cafeteria door, Stan held it open for Wendy and watched her as she passed by him. A daring sense of playfulness spread throughout his veins at the sight of his girlfriend's hips swaying back and forth in her skin tight jeans.

Leaping away from the door and fastening his arm delicately around her waist from behind her, Stan leant down to Wendy and quickly brushed his lips against her neck as he whispered in her ear, "Well, that just means you and me are going to have plenty of catching up to do on Sunday, hm?"

The overly excited thoughts dancing about his mind were so overwhelming and consuming that Stan failed to immediately notice the sensation of Wendy's body tensing up at his intimate touch.

Wriggling away from his grasp, Wendy lamely sighed out his name, "Stan..."

And then, just like that, a familiar sense of reality snapped back in over the top of Stan's dream world. This was a situation that was certainly not new to him.

He and Wendy had been together forever. Forever and _ever_. They were the only couple in their whole senior year that had lasted this consistently for this long. And for the most part, they were completely inseparable. Whenever they were alone, they simply couldn't keep their hands off one another.

But it was a different story at school. And in public in general. And even when they were just in front of their friends.

Public displays of affection were not Wendy's strong suit - in any sense of the word. As far as she was concerned, they way she and Stan felt about each other and what they got up to behind closed doors was nobody else's business. And despite how opposite to her Stan may have felt about the situation, he knew it wasn't worth starting a fight over.

He just didn't want to upset Wendy... no matter how many slim cases of public rejection he had to endure.

Sighing as quietly as he could under his breath, Stan took a small step back, abiding by Wendy's rules as he handed back to her the pile of books. Smiling softly at him for being so understanding, Wendy leant up on her toes and instead offered her boyfriend a quick, innocent, kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you in English?" she asked, trying to simply blow off the awkward moment.

Stan could only nod his head. Where was the point in trying to say anything more?

"Sure. Cya' then."

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, Wendy then turned on her heels and skipped over towards the table in the middle of the cafeteria where Bebe and the other girls were sitting. Stan watched her as she left, groaning under his breath in the slimmest frustration.

For as long as he had put up with the 'no P.D.A.' rule throughout his relationship, he still couldn't quite understand it. What exactly was Wendy's problem with being a bit silly and cuddly in front of other people? Was she embarrassed? Was she worried about what others would think of her? Did she, maybe... not trust Stan, or something?

Trying to shake off the harrowing thoughts as this final notion crossed his mind, Stan spun around on the spot and made a silent beeline towards his own regular lunch table. He fished around in the bottom of his school bag for his sandwich as he eventually took a seat between his two best friends.

Kyle and Kenny were lost in whatever hilariously pointless conversation happened to be going down between them and the rest of the boys that day. Stan tried to pay close attention, catching snippets of the words being swapped here and there. But, somehow, the eighteen year old senior was unable to tear his eyes away from where Wendy sat on the other side of the cafeteria.

He watched her as she laughed along with the rest of the girls. She was so gorgeous. Stan felt like the luckiest guy in the world. But, at the same time, the teenage boy wasn't exactly sure how much more of this needless rejection he was willing to put up with.

"You guys!"

Suddenly being snapped from his trance at the unmistakable, grunting cries being huffed out from behind him, Stan looked over his shoulder to find Cartman waddling towards the group of boys with as much as haste as he could muster.

"Oh my God, you guys!"

As he swapped a quick glance with Kyle, the two best friends planted their feet firmly on the ground and leant all their body weight into the table to stop Cartman from shaking it in erratic excitement.

"Dude, what is it?" Kenny asked, speaking clearly since permanently discarding his orange parka from his closet.

Standing at the head of the table as Butters finally appeared by his side, Cartman slammed down an aggravated fist, "Have you artards heard what that bunch of _skanks_ have got planned for this weekend?"

Rolling his eyes as he took a long sip from his chocolate milk, Kyle shook his head, "What makes you think we seriously give a shit about what the girls do at Bebe's dinner, fatass?"

Ignoring the usual insult from his long standing frenemy, Cartman carried straight along, "Because, Jew, they're totalling throwing a fuckin' sick party behind our backs!"

"What are you talking about?" Craig asked with a frown.

Stuttering in over the top of the conversation, Butters directed his attention to the guys, "Well, Eric and I heard Bebe and Nichole talking during history class, and they said that - "

"Bebe's fuckin' parents are gonna' be gone for the whole weekend and there's gonna' be music and pizza and booze!"

Up until that point in the conversation, Stan had been solely concentrating on eating his lunch and blocking out Cartman's hysteric ramblings. But at this final announcement from his other oldest friend, the dark haired boy felt his chest clench up.

"No way," Clyde suddenly cut in.

"Uh, _yes_ way!" Cartman argued.

"It's true," Butters added, "Bebe's cousin, Ashley, and some other kids from North Park Community College are coming down and bringing enough alcohol for all of them. We heard the whole thing, didn't we, Eric?"

"So, wait a second," Kenny jumped back in, holding his hands up, "You're telling us that the girls are throwing a legit party where they're gonna' get drunk, hang out with a bunch of college kids, become fuckin' easy pickings, and they _haven't_ invited us?"

The comment from Kenny made Stan's stomach turn. Throwing his sandwich back down in its sheet of cling wrap and pushing it away, the teenager ran his hand over his red poofball hat and snapped his eyes shut for a short second, "No, dude, you must have heard them wrong. They're just having some lame dinner, it's not a full blown party."

"Oh, yeah?" Cartman challenged, "And how the hell do you know?"

"Because, retard, Wendy's organising it, and she would never - "

Stopping himself as he suddenly realised what he had been about to say, Stan bit his tongue. He felt all colour drain from his face at the teasing and knowing expressions that lay across the features of the guys all around him.

"I'm sorry, what was that? Wendy would never...?" Cartman asked with a sarcastic snarl, "Stan, were you actually just about to admit that you've finally realised how much of a stuck-up prude your boring little girlfriend is?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Cartman," Kyle sharply interjected before Stan had the chance to leap across the table and pummel Cartman to a pulp, "I'm pretty sure Stan would know if Wendy was planning anything like that for her and the other girls."

"Well, not unless she doesn't want you there."

Whipping his neck around at the sound of Craig's monotone voice, Stan shot daggers at his friend in the blue hat.

"Yeah," Clyde joined in from his spot beside Craig, "Are you two even together anymore?"

As he scrunched his fist into an ever growing ball of fury and frustration, Stan felt a fire light up behind his sapphire eyes, "Yes, we're still together, asshole."

"Well, it's not our fault if we can't fuckin' tell anymore," Clyde retorted, "She doesn't exactly seem all that interested in you, dude."

"Clyde's got a point, Stan," Cartman continued to prod as he smugly folded his arms over his chest, "The little betting pool I'm heading on how long it is till she dumps your ass again is making me more and more money every day."

Finally taking that as the last straw before he completely flipped out and punched one of them right between the eyes, Stan slammed his hands down on the table and pushed himself up from the bench seat.

As he swung one leg over his seat and heatedly stormed out of the cafeteria, Cartman chuckled loudly to himself, "Oh, c'mon, don't go getting sand in your vagina! We're just fucking with you!"

Shaking his head in disgust at the treatment of his best friend, Kyle glared at Butters for a moment as the blonde boy echoed Cartman's cruel laughter as loyally as ever. Finally diverting his attention back to his nemesis, the Jewish boy coiled his forked tongue. He was just about ready to spew some more hateful venom in Cartman's direction, when the overweight teenager suddenly beat him to the punch, sitting down in Stan's seat and pulling out a small notepad from the inside of his red coat.

"Okay, but seriously, the odds for Saturday night being the night Stan gets dumped are really beginning to drop, you guys."

Gritting his teeth together in furious disbelief at the sight of Cartman's betting book, Kyle growled under his breath, "Cartman..."

"If any of you guys wanna' make anymore bets, you'd better hand over your money right now."

A patronising scoff emitted from the back of Kyle's throat as a couple of the guys reached into their pockets for their wallets. The red-head rolled his eyes in one final wave of repulsion as he snatched up his school bag and climbed up from the bench.

"Some friends you guys are," he spat. Right as he had been about to march out of the cafeteria in search of Stan, Kyle sensed his eyes narrow one last time. He had just managed to spy Kenny reveal a very old, wrinkly looking dollar bill from the front pocket of his tattered jeans.

Again, Kyle shook his head, "Ahem?" he sniped, forcing Kenny to jump with surprise, "Do you really wanna' waste you last dollar for the whole week?"

Feeling a sheepish grin sweep across his mouth, Kenny gulped slightly at the aggression in Kyle's eyes. While the opportunity to win some money was almost too overpowering to turn down, the blonde teenager knew where his true loyalties lied.

He didn't want Stan to get broken up with again - he wanted him to be happy just as much as Kyle did. The both of them were exactly the type of best friend that money simply couldn't buy.

In one final bout of hesitation, Kenny soon groaned out loud as he reluctantly got up from his seat and joined Kyle on his hunt for Stan to make sure he was okay.

Man, this better have been worth it.

"Goddamn it..."

 _-x-_

Finishing the final touches to her make-up and flicking the last of her curly, black ringlets behind her ear, Wendy took a step back and stared herself up and down in her floor length mirror.

The seventeen year old couldn't help but grin at her reflection in the glass that hung inside the door of her closet. This was the night she had been anticipating for so long. It was finally Saturday night, and _finally_ time for Bebe's eighteenth birthday dinner.

Well, as far as all the girls' parents knew, it was still just a birthday _dinner_...

Squealing under her breath as she was barely able to contain her excitement any longer, Wendy whipped off her daggy tank top and stepped out of her blue skinny jeans. She reached forward, pulling the hanger out of her wardrobe that was holding up her new black party dress. She had purchased it especially for her best friend's eighteenth, and as lame as it probably sounded to any boy she'd ever try to explain it to, Wendy simply couldn't wait for the chance to finally wear it.

With this thought in mind, Wendy stretched her arm around behind her back and unclipped her white bra, shrugging out of it and letting it fall to the floor. Carefully taking the straps of her dress off the coathanger one at a time, Wendy's brown orbs suddenly flicked over to her bedroom door at the sound of a soft knock.

"Honey?" the voice of her mother called from the other side of it, "Stan's here to see you."

A small, giddy smile crossed Wendy at the pleasant surprise of her boyfriend's arrival, "Okay," the teenage girl called back, "He can come in."

Just as she heard the latch of her door click open, Wendy slowly pulled the black dress over her head and allowed it to drop over her body, "Hey."

Stan grinned at the sweet sound of Wendy's voice as he echoed her, "Hey."

Shutting the wooden door behind him, Stan turned his head to find that Wendy was standing in front of her closet, shielded by the open doors as she continued to examine herself in the mirror.

Casually strolling over towards her bed, Stan took a seat on the comfy mattress, taking an innocent glance around her room as he waited for her to finish getting changed. The two of them had sure spent their fair share of quality time between the four purple walls, just as they had in Stan's bedroom, too. Those were the memories that meant the most to the eighteen year old - when he and his girlfriend could be alone with one another and simply be themselves.

The thought of this abruptly made Stan blow the softest sigh out from between his lips. Ever since the previous afternoon at school, all he had been able to think about was the looming, dreaded force of Bebe's party. Was there any truth in what Cartman was saying? That Wendy was seriously going to spend her whole night getting drunk with a bunch of older college girls?

Even worse than that... was there any truth in Cartman and the rest of the guys' horrid suspicions that Wendy was planning on breaking up with him again any time soon?

Stan wasn't particularly certain, about any of it. But as he shook his head to himself and tried to clear his mind as best he could, he was damn sure that one way or another, he was going to ask Wendy and find out.

"You know I'm about to head over to Bebe's, right?"

As the lyrical sound of her sweet tone rocked Stan from his haunting daydream, he nervously cleared his throat, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I know. I just wanted to come over and see you before you left."

Wendy felt a blush fall into her cheeks, "Aw," she cooed dreamily, "Well, we should have lunch or something tomorrow and catch up."

Trying to ignore the ever-climbing pitter-patter of his heart in his chest, Stan shut his eyes for the shortest second. He couldn't let himself become distracted by his pure adoration of Wendy until he had the chance to talk to her about everything that was on his mind. After all, he didn't even have the first clue how she was going to react to what he had to say. Perhaps after tonight she wouldn't even want to see him tomorrow.

Shuddering at this thought, Stan took a deep breath, "Yeah, for sure..." he spoke, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, "But, uh, Wendy? About tonight... I just wanted to ask - "

"Can you zip me?"

Stan wasn't sure what had driven to him to a sharper silence. The fact that Wendy had cut him off and snapped in over the top of his nervous tone, or the mere image of her standing before him and looking absolutely breathtaking.

Within the very first second of laying eyes on her as she twirled around on the spot, Stan was positive he was going to throw up. But his throat had become so dry that he couldn't even muster the moisture to do so.

Wendy's hair sat in a bun high on top of her head. Her gorgeous raven locks were curled and strands of them hung down from the loose knot, perfectly framing her face. Her make-up was impeccable as always and complimented her black dress and pink heels that graced her feet. The knee-length dress had a tight fitting bodice that hugged Wendy's torso and flowed out from the waist down. The neckline and the body of the dress, just above her belly button and below her bust, was completely sheer, and her porcelain skin shone through like a thousand diamonds.

Stan's eyes were bulging right out of his head. Wendy looked amazing - she was _stunning_... well, not that Stan didn't think that she _always_ looked stunning. This was just the first time in a long time that the dark haired boy could remember his girlfriend putting so much of a purposeful effort into her appearance. It was kind of peculiar. What was so important about this night?

" _That's_ what you're wearing?"

The words from her boyfriend hadn't exactly been the loving compliment that Wendy may have been expecting. As she felt her brow furrow in confusion and her expression drop with slight dejection, she coiled her tongue.

"You wanna' change your tone and try again?"

The traces of hurt that filled her voice immediately made Stan turn a horrible pale shade of white. Cringing outwardly and making a mental note to kick himself later, the dark haired boy took a step towards Wendy and gestured for her to turn back around.

"Shit, no - no, I didn't mean it like that," he hopelessly stuttered. Taking his gentle grasp to the zipper of Wendy's dress, Stan slowly pulled it up, bringing the fabric together and concealing the soft skin of his girlfriend's back.

Blowing out a shaky breath, he wrapped an arm around her, hugging her waist as he placed a tender kiss on her cheek. Wendy glanced up, her brown eyes instantly meeting the blue of Stan's in the mirror where he stood behind her, still with a loving hold of her slender torso.

"You're just so beautiful."

Wendy's heart skipped about a dozen beats. Her face heated up bright red in a blush from where Stan had kissed her, and a thousand tiny goosebumps popped up over her arms at the adoring words he murmured to her. She kept her vision locked with his in the mirror, her lips parted slightly for a second or two.

And then, as she wriggled out of his grip, Wendy hastily spun back around to face him.

"We need to talk."

Just like that, Stan felt his soul completely shatter into a million pieces.

Without saying anything more - for now, anyway - Wendy took a step around her frozen boyfriend and silently sat down on her bed. Stan's rapid breath began to dangerously increase, catching in his throat every now and then. The colour drained from his face again and he held down more nervously sick vomit as he unwillingly about faced and joined Wendy where she sat.

Crap... what if Cartman really _had_ been right all along? About her breaking up with him again? Stan wanted more than anything to immediately ask Wendy if everything was okay, but he simply couldn't find the words to do so. He knew that he even dared to open his mouth, he would only puke up all of his emotions.

Before long, Wendy slowly licked her lips.

"Okay... okay, so I've been considering this for a while now," she spoke, seemingly gathering her thoughts, "Stan, we've been together... forever, and... you are so sweet, and so caring..."

Stan was totally solidified in his place. He tried to remain as strong as he possible could, using all his willpower to stop any fearful tears from pricking the corners of his eyes as he anticipated Wendy's next words. He only wondered what the hell it was that he had done that was so wrong.

In the next second, Wendy reached for Stan's hand.

"Stan, I -"

"Wendy, honey?" Mrs. Testaburger's voice suddenly reverberated from downstairs, "Come on, sweetheart, I'll drive you to Bebe's now!"

The moment that had been ferociously frozen in time suddenly ripped Stan into the dull reality that Wendy had been cut off before she had the chance to tell him what she needed to tell him.

The teenage boy was on the verge of a genuine heart attack as Wendy glanced back up at him. She hesitated for a short second or two, chewing down indecisively on her bottom lip. And then, after all that had just occurred between the two of them, Wendy could only shrug her shoulders.

"This can wait," she announced in an incredibly nonchalant manner as she stood up from her bed, "Do you need my mom to drive you home?"

Stan's head was spinning. There were dozens of different internal voices fighting for occupancy of his mind, each of them screaming at Stan and begging him to say something - _anything_ to Wendy.

Part of him wanted to gently ask her what is was she trying to tell him. Another part wanted him to continue with his original plan and confront her with his concerns about how much unnecessary distance he felt was beginning to settle between them. Another part simply told him 'to hell with it', and dared him to yell at her that if she wanted to break up with him she should just do it already.

But all of those demanding voices were being drowned out by one, singular thought.

If this really _was_ going to be the end between he and Wendy - Stan wanted to prolong the inevitable for as long as he possibly could.

"Uh... I'm going to Kyle's, actually."

"Oh," Wendy answered with a strangely bubbly tone, "That's okay, she can drop you off there."

As she reached down to him where he still sat on her bed and offered him her hand, Stan tried not to appear too obviously confused by Wendy's conflicting behaviour. He took her hand, stood up by her side, and then followed her from her room all the way downstairs to her mother's car - the whole time asking himself over and over again just what the hell was going on.

This was the only question that remained with him on the entire car trip from Wendy's house to Kyle's. He tried as hard as he could to silent his nagging thoughts and revel in the pleasant chatter and silly singing along with the radio between Wendy and her mum, but there was an agonising notion stabbing at his brain and telling him that maybe this would be the last car ride he would ever take with them.

As the car eventually pulled up in the Broflovskis' driveway, Stan took a deep, subtle breath. He grabbed a hold of the handle on the inside of the passenger door. Wendy had let him ride shotgun on the short trip, and as she climbed out of the back seat of her mother's car to take his place, she glimpsed up at him with an adoring grin.

The sweetness in her expression tortured Stan's emotions and pulled at his heartstrings as he attempted to hold a calm appearance.

"So, lunch tomorrow?"

Stan narrowed his blue eyes, "Um..."

She _still_ wanted to have lunch with him?

"Uh... sure. I'll swing by your place and come get you tomorrow."

"Okay," Wendy agreed, tucking a raven coloured ringlet behind her ear. She held her gaze with him for a moment, staring at him in that hypnotising way that made his knees weak.

And then, as she smirked at him once more and turned around to climb back into the car, Stan finally snapped.

"Wait, Wendy?"

At the sound of her name, Wendy immediately turned around. She tilted her head and raised a curious eyebrow, waiting for Stan to speak again. But the instant of bravery that had momentarily swelled in his chest ultimately collapsed inside of him and fizzled out in the bottom of his stomach. He couldn't do this.

"Um... have fun, okay?"

A soft, pink blush grazed Wendy's cheeks at the sweetness from her boyfriend. Taking a tiny step forward, the teenage girl took a tender hold of Stan's arm and leant up on her toes, pecking his lips with one small, chaste kiss.

Soon after that, the revitalising moment was over, and Stan was left in a puddle of insane insecurity as he watched Wendy and her mother take off up the street en route to Bebe's house.

The eighteen year old sighed, taking his hand to his lips where Wendy's had just been. Anyone would think that this would have ceased any and all forms of doubt in Stan's mind and instantly made him feel better. After all, why would Wendy kiss him if she was planning on breaking up with him? But, instead, as he crept up to front door of Kyle's house and greeted Sheila Broflovski, all the incident had done was caused Stan to ask himself a million more questions.

Strolling down the upstairs hallway of his best friend's house, Stan half-heartedly nudged into Kyle's bedroom door that was already partly open. The Jewish boy glanced up from his laptop screen at the sound of the visitor entering his room, smiling to find that it was Stan.

"About time, dude," he spat with a laugh, shutting the lid of his laptop, "What took you so long?"

Stan shrugged his shoulders, pulling out the chair at Kyle's desk and taking a seat, "Sorry. I was at Wendy's place," he began to explain, dejection coating his voice, "She's on her way to Bebe's place now."

Kyle cocked an eyebrow at his friend's dull tone, "What, you're not worried about her, or something, are you?"

Again, Stan could only heave his shoulders in a hopeless shrug, "I dunno'... should I be?" he argued, "I mean, she's gonna' be over there partying with alcohol and a whole bunch of college girls, right?"

As the last couple of words trickled off the end of Stan's tongue, Kyle felt his expression falter for a split second. He frowned, wondering for a moment if Stan had actually meant to say what he had just spoken.

The red-headed boy cleared his throat, "Well, uh... sure, I mean, there might be _some_ other girls over there..."

Instantly gazing up to pierce Kyle with his apprehensive vision, Stan sensed his crystal blue eyes begin to expand with a vicious flame, " _Some_ other girls?" he said, repeating his best friend, "What do you mean? Cartman and Butters said that Bebe's cousin Ashley is bringing all her friends down with her with North Park?"

As an overwhelming weight of realisation crashed down onto Kyle's shoulders, he drove himself to a dramatic pause. Reaching his hand up to awkwardly scratch his head under his trusty green hat, the teenage boy swallowed, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as he could.

"Dude... Bebe's cousin's a dude."

Stan felt his heart stop.

"What?" he sniped, "Bebe's cousin _Ashley -_ "

" - _Which_ happens to be a very common unisex name," Kyle countered with a shrug of his own as he held his hands up in defence.

Immediately bolting up from his seat and forcing it to roll back into Kyle's desk, Stan felt a panic sweep through him as he took his hands to his temples, "So, you're telling me that Wendy is heading over to a party right now where she is probably gonna' end up drunk out of her mind and surrounded by a bunch of _college_ dudes?"

"Not a _bunch_ ," Kyle retorted, attempting to calm Stan down as he sprung to his feet, too, "Butters heard the girls saying that it was just Bebe's cousin and, like, three of his friends."

Kyle tried to ease his best friend's sudden nerves as much as he could, but no matter what else the Jewish boy had to say, Stan's imagination was already far too inconsolable. His mind had been irreversibly set on a wild rollercoaster ride, concocting a million and one different sickening scenarios about just what kind of night Wendy may have been walking herself into. And there was no way Stan was prepared to simply sit back and let any of them come true - not a damn chance.

"Oh, no fucking way..."

Kyle's hazel eyes narrowed at his oldest friend as he watched Stan rip his cell phone out from the pocket of his jeans and swipe across the screen, "Stan..."

Before the wary tone could even fully escape his lips, Kyle jumped in slight surprise as he felt his own phone suddenly vibrate in his pocket.

The red head frowned in confusion for a moment, but only felt himself cringe as he unlocked his slim-lined device and spotted an instant message sitting in his inbox. The message had been sent to the group chat that he and Stan shared with Cartman, Kenny and every one of the other guys that they had been friends with since elementary school.

The tight-knit group definitely weren't strangers to tackling strange adventures head on and causing trouble for themselves or anyone else. And as Kyle stared down the five little words that Stan had typed to the group of boys, it instantly became clear that the recurring theme of trouble making was certainly not going to be lost on this particular night...

 _'We're crashing that fucking party'_

 _-x-_

 **First of all, lovely readers, I would like to point out I wrote this story before season twenty's second episode _Skank Hunt_ aired last Wednesday. If you go back and watch it, you can actually pinpoint the exact moment where my heart snapped in two...**

 **Anyway! Hello all! I hope you enjoyed reading this first part of my new story. This story will consist of three parts overall, and is an idea I've had chilling in the back of my mind forverrrr, so I'm super excited to update again soon.**

 **Please feel free to leave me a review and let me know what you thought! What do we think Wendy was about to say to Stan, and how exactly is Bebe's party going to go once the boys crash it..? I'd love to hear what you all think might happen next :)**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyyy x**


	2. Part Two

_**Like It's Her Birthday.  
** Part Two - _

_-x-_

"Look, all I'm saying is - seeing as _I'm_ the one who found out about the raging fuckin' party in the first place, _I_ should be the one who gets to hook up with the college bitch with the biggest boobs!"

Gritting their teeth as the group of high school seniors unwillingly continued to listen to Cartman ramble and grunt on, Clyde finally snapped as he scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

"Dude, you don't get dibs on the biggest pair of boobs just because you've got the biggest and fattest of everything else."

Kenny chuckled, not missing a single beat, "Biggest of everything else except dick size."

"'Ay!" Cartman screeched, turning red in the face as Kenny's laughter echoed throughout the rest of the boys, "Shut your fucking mouth, you poor-ass fuck!"

"Why don't _you_ shut up for once in your life, Cartman?" Kyle leapt in, shaking his head, "I highly doubt any college girls are gonna' want anything to do with a bunch of teenage dudes, anyway - but especially not the one that's nothing more than a fat tub of lard."

Cartman narrowed his eyes as he furiously spun around and glared daggers at Kyle, " _Or_ how's about the one that's nothing more than a no good, rotten kike!" he spat with serious venom, "Girls don't wanna' live in a Synagogue and eat gifelte fish for the rest of their lives, Kyle!"

Daring to take a step between his two friends before they had the chance to start throwing punches at one another, Kenny simply laughed to himself again, "Aw, come on guys, there's nothing wrong with being a little optimistic. I'd be happy just to get my hands on any of the girls - whether they're in college or not."

Eagerly rubbing his hands together as he mused to himself, the corner of Token's lips turned up into a sly smile, "But a huge pair of boobs would be nice..."

Finally hearing the absolute last of all he was willing to put up with, Stan groaned in loud annoyance. He scraped his feet along the concrete ground, coming to a sharp halt where he was positioned at the very back of the pack of senior boys.

"Would it kill you guys to stop thinking with your goddamn dicks for once?"

With the mood in the air abruptly falling flat, the guys widened their eyes as they were all forced to a stunned silence. Turning their vision towards Stan, the group of boys frowned at him and his patronising words.

"Oh, sure," Clyde hummed sarcastically, "Just because you're the only one out of us getting any regular action."

Craig spat out a singular, cynical laugh, snorting under his breath, "Allegedly..."

A fiery chord immediately snapped against Stan's heart at yet another insult from his friends about his relationship with Wendy. He felt a violent eruption churn in the very pit of his stomach. There were already a million and one other distressing thoughts flying throughout his mind without any of his so called friends making him feel any worse.

Just as the eighteen year old was about to lunge forward and viciously grab onto whichever of the guys he could get his hands on first, he sucked in a surprised breath as he felt Kenny take a firm hold of his shoulder and drag him back. The blonde boy gently coaxed his friend in towards him with an easing shake his head.

"Dude," he spoke, "Dude, just relax."

Stubbornly grinding his teeth to what was almost a fine powder in his mouth, Stan took a step back to remain by Kenny's side. As his temper began to subside and Kenny sensed his friend's tense muscles loosen slightly, he finally let go of Stan's arm.

The sky seemed to be getting darker and darker which each step that the group of boys took down the main street through the middle of town. It was quite late at night - nearing on ten o'clock, and Bebe's party had started a little more than three hours ago. The guys were cloaked in black clothing as they snuck like shadows through the night towards the birthday girl's red bricked house.

None of them had the first clue what exactly they were daring to walk themselves into once they arrived at the party. But if all the rumours that Cartman and Butters had started swirling around their circle of friends were true, it was bound to be one interesting night for all of them.

Which, of course, only added to Stan's anxious nerves.

As the chatter between all his friends began to increase in volume again from where they strolled along in front of him, Stan allowed a despondent sigh to escape his lips. Raising a curious eyebrow at one of his oldest friends, Kenny cleared his throat with a frown.

"I don't understand why you let them get to you so much, ya' know," he began, "Who cares about what the fuck they think - you're the one who knows how Wendy really feels about you."

Stan shuddered at Kenny's words. His mind cycled back to what his girlfriend had said - or had _attempted_ to say to him - just a few short hours ago in her bedroom, "...Do I?"

Kenny immediately felt the crease in his brow deepen, "What do you mean?"

Biting down hard on his tongue before he could say anything more, Stan's shoulders fell into a hopeless shrug. Hesitating for a moment or two, he glanced up and stared at the backs of his friends as they continued to walk up the road ahead of him. Once he was sure that they were all well out of ear-shot, Stan drew another miserable breath.

"If you tell any of them this, I'll kick your ass," he warned his blonde friend. Looking down to his feet for a sad second, Stan's chest was stinging as he spoke, "I was at her place this evening... before she left to go to Bebe's," he began, "She said that... that, we needed to talk..."

Kenny skidded to a silence as his expression widened, "Ouch... that's never exactly a good sign," he offered lamely, "What did she say?"

"Nothing - she didn't get the chance to. Her mom came up and interrupted us and said it was time to go."

Kenny wracked his brain as he tried his hardest to think of something - _anything_ he could tell Stan to make him feel better, "Shit, man..." he droned, "Are you guys okay, though? Have you been, like, arguing lately, or?"

"No, not at all, not even a little bit. Like, she even kissed me goodbye, or whatever, it was bizarre."

Listening to his friend's recount of that evening's questionable events, Kenny felt the cogs in his brain continue to turn. God only knew the blonde boy had made himself the victim of more than enough girl related drama throughout his teenage years. Surely, Kenny thought to himself, he had to have _some_ kind of insight into exactly what Wendy was wanting to get off her chest.

All of a sudden, as Kenny sensed all shades of colour drain from his face, the middle McCormick swallowed a nervous lump in his throat.

"Wait..." he stuttered slightly, "She wouldn't be... like... _pregnant,_ right?"

Before the dreaded 'P' word had even completely left Kenny's lips, Stan felt his stomach turn, "No," he instantly snapped back. He kept a hush tone in his voice so as not to gain the attention of the other guys, "No, dude - not even possible. You know we haven't."

Kenny was quiet for a second before he gently tiled his head to one side, "Still?"

The underlying tones of intrigue and disbelief in Kenny's question were almost a little insulting to Stan, but he quickly shook the emotion off.

Stan was ready. Kenny knew he was ready. He was _more_ than ready. But none of that mattered to Stan anywhere as much as Wendy mattered to him.

"Not until she's ready, man."

Simply choosing to leave his firm and unwavered argument at that, rather than diving any deeper into the uncomfortable topic, Stan awkwardly cleared his throat, "Anyway..." he spoke, shoving his hands into the pocket of his black hoodie, "I _was_ planning on trying to talk to her about her whole P.D.A. weirdness thing..."

As his words trailed off slightly at the muddled up thoughts in his mind, Stan's heart felt heavy in his chest, "But then she went and sprung all this on me, and now she's at this shitty fuckin' party doing God knows what with fuck knows who, and - "

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Kenny sharply cut in, "What do you mean ' _who_ '? You honestly can't think she's cheating on you, or something, right?"

Without sparing a single second, Stan spat out a sarcastic scoff. From the very moment that he had found out Wendy was probably going to spend her time that night drinking alcohol with a group of random, slightly older guys - it was the _only_ thing Stan had been able to think about.

The thought of it in that very second lit a fire up behind his eyes.

"There's gonna' be some kind of reason why she won't even fuckin' touch me in front of you guys."

The sudden burst of anger from his close friend threw Kenny back slightly. He had always known how much it kind of bugged Stan for Wendy to not show him very much affection in public, but never had the blonde teenager seen the confusing situation cause _this_ much raw emotion to hurtfully spew from his friend's guts. It sucked. It sucked for Kenny to see how much Stan was actually hurting from all of this, and it sucked that in that moment, neither one of them had the first clue about how to fix everything.

As the looming image of Bebe's house appeared just at the bottom of the street, Kenny sighed in defeat. He might not have been certain about a permanent solution to Stan's impossible problem, but he always knew how to make any of his friends laugh and feel better - even if it was just for a short while.

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about her cheating on you. Wendy's not that kind of person," the blonde boy annouced, "She's not... well, she's not like _me_."

As many sick nerves as there were still bubbling in Stan's stomach, he couldn't help but grin at Kenny's comment.

South Park's token 'poor kid' had never allowed his dire family circumstances to affect exactly the kind of person he was. Kenny had always been an awesome friend to Stan, Kyle and rest of the guys, and he was an amazing big brother to his little sister. But when it came to being a romantic partner - commitment wasn't exactly Kenny's forte. He much preferred to observe Stan and Wendy's relationship from a distance rather than dive head first into something similar for himself.

And because of this, Kenny could see all too clearly that Stan was falling victim to his own anxiety and simply over reacting - again.

"I actually don't think you have anything to worry about at all."

Stan folded his arms over his chest as he strolled alongside Kenny is silence for a short moment. While he appreciated his friend's positive outlook, Stan wasn't sure if he actually understood it, or even imagined it could be justified.

"Uh, no offence, dude," he spoke, "But you're not exactly an expert on long term relationships, or anything."

Kenny could only chuckle under his breath. He hesitated his next words for a second or two. He sort of knew what he wanted to offer Stan in response, but at the risk of sounding totally lame, he stayed quiet for just an instant longer.

"Yeah... but none of the girls I've ever been with look at me the same way Wendy looks at you."

Stan's heart thumped against his ribcage. Kenny's words had immediately triggered images of Wendy and her beautiful, brown eyes to flash throughout his mind. The way she'd stare at him - _every_ time she stared at him - made him feel like he was living in a dream. He didn't want that feeling to be ripped away from him.

Reading the still somewhat doubtful expression on his friend's face, Kenny jokingly nudged Stan in the arm with his elbow, "And if you tell any of the guys I ever said that, _I'll_ kick _your_ ass."

With a roll of his eyes, Stan nudged Kenny right back with a sarcastic laugh, "Understood."

Their voices were still as hushed as ever into the dark night as the group of senior boys finally crept up upon Bebe's house. They stood in the park across the street, behind a few trees that were fronted by a huge pile of fresh, white snow.

Stan narrowed his sharp, crystal eyes as he gazed across the road. There was no doubt within any of the boys' minds that there was _definitely_ an insane party raging on between the four walls of Bebe's house.

The lights behind the living room curtains were flashing. The red bricks of the house were near visibly shaking with the thumping music that echoed into the streets. Bebe's annoyed neighbours had even started to curiously gaze out of their own homes, wondeirng where Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were and just what the heck was going on inside their house.

"Okay, retards, what's the plan?" Cartman grunted, his slobbish words turning to mist in the air as they left his mouth.

Stan chewed down on his bottom lip. It was slowly tearing his insides to shreds to picture what may or may not have been going on beyond the front door of Bebe's house. Even from way back across the street where they stood, the guys could see an uncountable amount of dark silhouettes wildly running back and forth past the front windows.

It was only when Stan spotted one of the curtains get viciously torn down from the window pane that his eyes narrowed with sheer panic. And the very second that he saw one of the girls - maybe it was Red? - push some random guy up against the glass with their mouths absolutely suctioned together, the teenage boy felt his heart turn to ice and shatter in his chest.

Stan sure as hell wasn't going to stand around any longer and wait for one of these creeps to get their hands on Wendy.

"Oh, I've got a fuckin' plan."

Before the dangerous tone of sarcasm had even completely left his mouth, the guys all flinched as Stan leapt from his place and bolted towards the front door, jumping over the small mountain of snow and flicking powder in their faces as he did.

"Stan!" Kyle hissed with concern.

Without hanging back to even utter any words of their own, the rest of the guys were immediately hot on Stan's heels, making an excitable beeline for the front door of the house. The dark haired boy made it up the single step first, bracing himself as he lunged forward and ripped open the wooden door.

The intense sound of the music pumping at full volume and the sickly overwhelming smell of alcohol coating the air engulfed his senses instantly. Stan was solidified in the doorway as the other guys eventually caught up and barged their way past him. Their unexpected entrance had almost made Red jump out of her skin as she detahced herself in surprise from the older looking guy she was clung to.

It took the teenage girl a few seconds to realise exactly what had just happened, but the second that she did, Red felt her eyes widen with incensed shock, "What the fuck, guys?"

The sound of her friend crying out in annoyed confusion caused the evening's hostess to twirl around on the spot where she stood in the middle of the living room. Flicking her mass of blonde curls out of her face, Bebe gasped, angrily crushing in her hand the empty can of vodka, lime and soda she has just finished drinking.

Stumbling slightly over towards the pack of darkly clad boys, Bebe frowned and fastened her hands to her hips, "What the hell are you losers doing here?"

"Ha!" Cartman grunted, pushing himself to the front of the group, "Did you dumb bitches seriously think you would be able to keep us away from the sick fuckin' party that you didn't have the balls to invite us to?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Bebe sighed, "Cartman, I swear to God, none of us are taking you through the whole 'girls don't have balls' thing again..."

Rolling his eyes and nudging Cartman out of the way, Kenny crossed his arms over his chest, "Okay, he may be as dumb as a sack of bricks, but he does have a point."

"Yeah," Kyle chimed in, "Why'd you assume that _we_ didn't want to celebrate your birthday with you, too?"

"Oh, yeah," Bebe laughed over the music with a loud snort, "I'm sure that's _all_ you guys were interested in tonight."

A slight silence fell over the group for a moment, quickly being dissolved by the yells and laughs and shouts by all of Bebe's party guests and the thumping of her stereo speakers. The eighteen year old girl only hesitated for a second or two, before she shrugged her shoulders indifferently and licked her bottom lip.

"Well," she said with a slurred hiccup, "If you guys are gonna' s-stay, I may as well put you to g-good use."

Before he even had the chance to react, Kyle's expression expanded in surprise as Bebe took a firm hold of his upper arm. Within a split second, the Jewish teenager found himself hanging onto the back of his green hat as the birthday girl whisked him away into the throng of partying teenagers, making a direct beeline for the living room couch and another drink or two.

Instantly taking that as their cue - and permission - to properly invite themselves into the party, the rest of the guys scattered into the crowd. Their cheers and cries of victory rang between the four walls of the room as Kenny proudly nodded his head in success.

"Well, I'm not gonna' just stand around and let Kyle be the only one to get some action that easily..."

The blonde boy chuckled to himself, giving Stan an encouraging pat on the back. But the younger Marsh was in a completely different head space in that moment, and just as Kenny had been about to disappear to source his own female counterpart, Stan grumbled under his breath.

"I'm seriously about to beat the shit out of someone..." Stan threatened as his eyes continued to frantically scan the room in search of his girlfriend, "Where the fuck is - "

"Stan!"

The sound of his name being screeched in a high pitched voice from the other side of the loungeroom made Stan's jaw fall flat to the floor. His eyes landed on the face that belonged to the name he had just been about to utter himself. She had a half-full, cheap looking bottle of champagne in one hand, an empty glass in the other, and a giant, rather elated grin spread across her lips.

At the mere sight of her, Stan gulped.

"...Wendy?"

With the smile remaining on her face, Wendy clumsily placed the bottle and her glass down on the coffee table by Bebe's couch and skipped her way over towards her boyfriend.

Stan wasn't one hundred per cent sure of what kind of reception to expect from Wendy. After all, the last time he had spoken to his girlfriend that evening, it seemed like she was near enough on the verge with breaking up with him. And yet, as Wendy continued to absolutely bound towards Stan, the dark haired boy felt his blue eyes widen in pleasant shock as the gorgeous seventeen year old made an ecstatic dive for him.

Stan stumbled back, only just managing to catch Wendy around her waist as she leapt into his grasp. Kenny quickly stepped out of the way, too, appearing just as surprised as Stan was to see Wendy devoting this much public affection on him.

She continued to squeeze him around his neck as lovingly as she could. While at first he had been left completely dumbfounded, Stan soon felt his heart slowly begin to settle as he hugged Wendy back just as tightly, breathing a sigh of relief as he lost himself in the scent of her beautiful, black hair.

"You came!" she exclaimed happily, finally letting go of him and planting her feet back on the floor. As soon as she did, though, Wendy's brow creased into a frown, "Wait... you came? But you can't come! You're a boy, this party was 'no boys allowed'."

Trying to ignore his nagging concerns at how much she was rambling and slurring her tipsy words, Stan took a subtle glance over to the small table where Wendy had left her drink. The teenage boy wasn't certain whether or not his girlfriend had drunk the bottle of champagne to herself so far, but before he could lose himself too much in this thought, Stan's mind suddenly clicked at something else Wendy had just spoken to him.

"No boys?" he repeated with a scoff, gesturing to the guy in the corner that Red was still making out with, "Can you please explain _that_?"

"Well I was _gonna'_ until Bebe took my phone away from me," Wendy immediately snapped back.

Stan fell to a sharp pause for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, closely examining the features of Wendy's face. There was a soft, red blush in her cheeks and her pupils were only slightly dilated from how much she had obviously been drinking in the last three hours. But even with all these alcohol related factors being taken into consideration, Stan still didn't have the first clue what his girlfriend was trying to explain to him.

"What do you mean?" he asked her.

Wendy swayed slightly, giggling to herself as Stan took a firm hold of both her arms to stop her from falling over, "I _mean_ , Bebe told me that her parents weren't gonna' be home and that we were gonna' be able to drink, but she didn't tell me where we were getting the booze from or that her cousin and any of his sleazy friends were gonna' be here."

Wendy still may have been stuttering along and just managing to successfully get her words out, but even so, the mere sound of her explanation made Stan's chest relieve itself of the immense pressure it had been suffering from all evening.

"So, then," Wendy went on, "I told her I wanted to call you and ask you to come over, because I wanted you here and I didn't want you to find out and get mad at me, but then Bebe said if I did that, all the other guys would find out too and then they'd crash her party. So she took my phone off me and told me to relax and have a drink instead."

Stan raised a cynical eyebrow. Wendy had _definitely_ listened to that part of her best friend's advice.

"But now you're here, so everything's okay!" Wendy cried, her mood increasing by leaps and bounds again as she flung her arms around Stan's torso. She nuzzled her face into his chest as he gazed down at her, still completely amazed.

He wasn't sure if Wendy was even aware of just how much of her love and affection towards him she was publicly putting on display - but he sure as hell wasn't going to question it. Just as he was about to wrap his arms around her, too, Wendy abruptly sprung back, gawking up into Stan's eyes.

"Do you want a drink? I'm gonna' get you a drink!"

Stan spat out a sheepish laugh, "Uh - "

And then, before the uncertain sound could even escape the back of his throat, Stan was driven to absolute silence as Wendy eagerly licked her lips and leant up on her toes, completely crashing her mouth into his.

Stan's sapphire blue orbs expanded to the size of saucers at the familiar taste of his girlfriend's lips. It wasn't Wendy's delicious lipgloss or her addictive kiss that was unusual to Stan - but the fact that she had committed the action in the presence of so many witnesses was driving him to complete and utter confusion.

The raven haired beauty continued to lap at her boyfriend's mouth over and over again as she sensed Stan's body finally relax and felt him kissing her back. As she slowly pulled away from him and opened her eyes, Wendy giggled to herself again at Stan's adorably dazed expression and pecked at him once more, "I'll be right back."

Watching her as she dodged the other party guests and scurried her way into the kitchen, Stan took a stumbled step backwards. He reached his hand up to his head and scratched under his red poof ball hat, blowing out an exhausted breath.

From where he had been watching on the entire time with surprise and awe swirling throughout his expression, Kenny cocked a sarcastic eyebrow, "Geez, I thought it was Bebe's birthday, not Wendy's," he commented with a chuckle, " _T_ _hat's_ the girl you think is planning on breaking up with you?"

Snapping out of his bemused trance, Stan flicked his eyes over to meet Kenny's. While it certainly may have been nice to publicly lose himself in the exhilarating kiss with his girlfriend, Stan knew deep down that Wendy was acting on much more than just her pure emotions. The bubbly, liquid, alcoholic substance sitting in her stomach and clouding her brain had to be giving her a few helpful nudges along the way.

"Okay... she is so drunk," Stan unwillingly admitted, "I've gotta' try to get her to sober up, man, she shouldn't be - "

"Whoa, whoa, hey now, let's not do anything hasty," Kenny cut in. Taking a step towards Stan, he threw a brotherly arm over his shoulders, seemingly gathering his thoughts, "Look at her over there, dude," he began, gesturing over to Wendy where she was caught up in a conversation with Heidi on her way back from the fridge, "She's happy, she's safe, no-one's gonna' bother her now that you're here to look after her. And judging by that little case of P.D.A., she's only got eyes for _you_."

Following his friend's gaze, Stan allowed his eyes to settle on Wendy. That new dress of hers looked absolutely stunning. She was perfection. And she definitely seemed to have forgotten any important matters of conversation that she had been trying to have with her boyfriend no longer than three hours ago.

Kenny lightly punched Stan in the arm, "When was the last time she cut this loose and was all over you like that?"

Stan's answer couldn't come any quicker, "In public? In front of other people?" he asked with a shake of his head, "Never."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Kenny shook his own head right back at Stan. The situation seemed pretty damned black and white to him.

"Well, it sounds to me like you might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts."

At first, Kenny's comment sent Stan spiralling into another silence. His friend was right - Wendy was having the time of her life, and clearly had left behind any usual shyness about getting so close with Stan in such a public space. As she slowly criss-crossed through the hoard of teenagers standing in the room and made her way back towards her boyfriend, Stan hesitated for a moment longer. She was balancing a can of beer and a fresh glass of champagne in the same hand, and appeared as eager as ever to drunkingly stumble her way back into Stan's affectionate presence.

There was only one important question that now remained for Stan. What was going to happen tomorrow, once the party was over and this night ended?

Was Wendy going to remember everything? Was she going to be embarrassed about drinking so much? Or angry at Stan for indulging in her uncharacteristic, loved-up behaviour? And, as well as all that...

"I got you a beer," the beautiful teenage girl suddenly chirped from where she stood right in front of Stan, "You like beer, right?"

...was Wendy only going to eventually reignite the fearful conversation she had attempted to have with Stan in her bedroom?

In one final moment of bravery blinded by just how much he loved her, all of Stan's anxious questions were answered with one simple thought in the forefront of his mind.

 _Fuck it._

"That depends... does it come with another kiss?"

Grinning up at him with wild cheek in her brown orbs, Wendy bit down on her bottom lip as she took her free hand to the back of Stan's neck. Her hazy mind was aswarm with nothing but blissful thoughts as she obliged to her boyfriend's request and plummeted her lips back against his.

Stan forced down his ever familiar senses of nervous vomit at the mere sensation of Wendy's kiss as he took his can of beer from her. With his other hand, he quickly shot Kenny a grateful thumbs up, before aggressively shooing him away. He kept one sharp, blue eye on him until his friend was out of sight, continuing to lap at Wendy as he did.

The dark haired beauty was so entranced by the endearing make-out session, that she soon allowed the glass of bubbly she was still clutching at to simply fall to the floor. She tipped it on its head, spilling it onto the carpet and instead opting to wrap both her arms around Stan's torso. Her hands ventured up his back, under his hoodie and under his tank top, her fingers tingling at his soft flesh as the very end of her tongue soon found its way into his mouth.

And then, before either Stan or Wendy could realise it, it was suddenly like they weren't even swapping such a steamy exchange in public and in front of all their friends. Instead, it felt like they were truly the only two in attendance at the wild house party - simply sharing that night together, and on their own.

 _-x-_

 **Okay, so what was originally a three part story has now turned into a four parter because of how long this chapter turned out to be! :)**

 **Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought here. I'd love to hear of any brewing suspicions about what exactly Wendy was trying to talk to Stan about in the last chapter... She certainly seems happy enough to see him now ;)**

 **Thanks to everyone for reading! Stay tuned to see what Stan has in store for himself as the party rolls right along...**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyyyy x**


	3. Part Three

_**Like It's Her Birthday.  
** Part Three - _

_-x-_

It had only been a little over an hour since the boys' arrival to the rocking, red-bricked house, but already, Bebe's birthday party had well and truly settled into full swing.

Eleven o'clock had chimed by about fifteen minutes ago now. The music was pumping as loud as ever, the volume of alcohol seemed to be never ending, and the atmosphere between the four walls of Bebe's family home was still swarming with overwhelming, teenage exuberance. Kyle, Cartman, Kenny and the rest of the guys had all dived head first into into the drunken, fun-filled mess. They were successfully keeping up with how tipsy the girls already were - easily matching all their drinks and throwing back as many more as they possibly could.

It had been a long, _long_ time since the entire group had put all their usual bickering and gender warfare to one side and simply enjoyed a night altogether under the one roof. And much to the surprise of both the boys and the girls, they were all actually having a pretty damn good time.

Bebe's cousin, Ashley, currently had a small circle of teenagers gathered around him as he lead the birthday girl and a few of her friends in a drinking game. The college boy had jumped at the chance to spend some time with his cousin on her eighteenth birthday while her parents were away. And considering it also meant that he got to force feed her alcohol and corrupt her and her high school friends in the process - it was all the more reason for him to kindly offer up his services.

"Okay, now it's your turn, pretty boy," Ashley spoke, gesturing to Clyde, "Pick a card from the circle."

Ashley sat in the middle of the couch, with Bebe by his side. On the coffee table in front of the couch, there was a tall cup surrounded by a deck of cards that were all face down in a circle. Ashley's three college friends that he had brought along with him were scattered throughout the huddle, joining Clyde, Kenny, Token, Annie and Nichole. Kyle was also sat on the floor right beside the smaller sofa chair that had been dragged over to the table where the game was taking place.

"I got a king," Clyde slurred with a hiccup.

"Ah ha!" Ashley exclaimed, "That means you've got to pour the rest of your drink into the cup in the middle of the circle. That happens with all the kings until the last one is picked up. The loser that draws the last one has to down everything in the big cup."

"Ew," Bebe spat with a laugh, "Everything?"

"The _whole_ thing," Ashley shot back.

As he watched Clyde pour the remainder of his beer into the tall glass, Kyle cringed slightly to himself. He definitely did not want to be staring down the barrel of the full cup once the final king was drawn. Trying to shake off the thought, Kyle turned to his left and glanced up to the sofa chair beside him. His hazel orbs immediately landed on the image of Stan lazily sitting in the chair as he watched the game play out.

The dark haired boy was comfortably slouched in his place, holding onto a can of beer that he rested on the arm of the sofa. For a moment, Kyle narrowed his eyes. He could swear that can was only Stan's third, maybe even only his second drink for the whole night so far. The Jewish teen hesitated for a second before reaching under the coffee table and fishing for the half empty bottle of vodka that one of Ashley's friends had ditched there only a few minutes ago. Snatching up a red plastic cup from the table, Kyle then poured a shot of the clear liquid into the bottom of it.

"Here, dude," he spoke, nudging his best friend in the arm with the cup, "C'mon, you've got some serious catch up to play."

Catching a whiff of the strong-smelling drink the second it was handed to him, Stan held down an uncomfortable cough and leant forward to place the cup back on the table, "No way, dude. I'm fine, really."

In the very next moment, Stan felt himself grunt in surprise as a mass of curled, black haired flashed through his blind spot right before Wendy suddenly appeared beside him with yet another drink in her hand. His girlfriend clumsily forced herself down into the same sofa where he was sitting, squeezing between Stan and the arm of the cream coloured chair.

As she shuffled closer to him, sort of snuggling into his shoulder, Stan could only smile. Apart from the times that evening when she had been darting away from the living room to visit either the fridge or the bathroom, Wendy had been yet to leave Stan's side. It was so addictively adorable.

But Stan wasn't allowing himself to become too hung up on the irresistible idea of Wendy clinging to him so lovingly - not just yet. After all, the teenage boy knew deep down within himself that Wendy's newfound, affectionate behaviour was sure to only last until she was sober again.

On that thought, the gorgeous seventeen year old giggled slightly to herself as she spied the shot of vodka sitting in front of her and Stan. Without even stopping to think, Wendy's hand lunged for the red cup as she tossed the small drink into the back of her mouth. She shuddered for sickly slim moment as the clear liquid trickled down her throat, but within a couple of seconds, Wendy was able to successfully keep the strong shot down. She smiled at Stan with a goofy grin as he cheekily shook his head at her.

Subtly turning back to Kyle, Stan lowered his voice, "Trust me - she's had more than enough for the both of us."

Despite his tone, and despite how much Kyle was rolling his eyes in agreement, Stan wasn't particularly annoyed at Wendy for her bizarre behaviour. He wasn't even slightly ticked off at her. She may have been making herself a bit of an unnecessary handful and setting herself up for one disastrous hangover the next morning, but Stan was far too happy to be seeing her simply cut loose and have a bit of fun for once.

The temptations to cave and join her in her drunken exploits and down a couple of quick drinks for himself were certainly brewing in his stomach... but there was just one thing holding him back that Stan valued much more than having a little extra fun that night. And that was staying as sober as possible so he could keep a close eye on Wendy and and make sure he properly looked after her.

"Okay, blondie," one of the older boys suddenly said to Annie, bringing everyone's attention back to the drinking game, "Your turn."

Carefully reaching forward for a card, Annie's hand hovered over the table for an indecisive second or two before she finally flipped one over and announced what it was, "Five."

"Five is 'never have I ever'," Ashley explained, "All you have to do is say one, and whoever _has_ done it has to drink."

Chewing down on her tongue, Annie's lips hummed together as she mulled over every possibility to get the juiciest confessions out of her friends. Soon enough, the curly haired girl smiled to herself as a lightbulb flicked on in her head.

"Okay," she began, "I've never hooked up with anyone past first base on school grounds?"

Instantly, a smug smirk popped up in the corner of Stan's lips. But then, almost as quickly as it had appeared, the teenage boy felt his expression collapse into a frown.

As all the college guys - and Kenny - took a sip of their drinks with a laugh of admittance, Stan glimpsed out of the corner of his eye at Wendy. He swallowed back a nervous gulp, second guessing himself.

Kenny wasn't the only one out of the boys to achieve such a daring feat. But Stan was absolutely certain that if he were to admit that in front of so many people, it would be the last time he would ever accomplish a similar action again - at school or even in his own bed - because Wendy would surely lose her mind with anger and rip his balls off in a heartbeat.

Sinking down into his seat, Stan tried his best to fade into the background as the other participants in the game scanned the group to see if there was anyone left who still had to drink. The dark haired boy held his breath, secretly praying that someone would hurry up and just take the next turn already.

But then, before any possible interrogation could even be directed at him, Stan jumped as he heard a scoff of disbelief echo from the last voice he was expecting in that moment.

"Uh, come on, Stan - don't be a liar," Wendy teased at the top of her lungs as she sharply elbowed her boyfriend in the ribs.

Within a sheer second, Kyle and Kenny felt their eyes widen in shock, "Ha!" Kenny belted, raising an eyebrow at Stan, "Um, something you wanna' share, dude?"

Stan's confused face had completely drained of all colour. As far as he knew, and according to Wendy's paranoid and private rules about their relationship, _nothing_ that the two of them ever did together was anyone else's business. Had Wendy really had _that_ much to drink? Was she really acting this out of character? Or was this all some kind of psychotic trap?

"Uh..." Stan stumbled, sweating at the number of pairs of eyes suddenly piercing him.

"Don't you remember?" Wendy stuttered with a drunken slur, "After the Homecoming game when you threw the pass that scored the winning touchdown? And then after that when everyone else went home, you and me snuck down into the boys' locker room and I gave you a hand- "

"Okay!" Stan thundered with a laugh, cutting Wendy off as he sprung to his feet, "Okay, I think that's enough of _that_ story..."

His cheeks were radiating a red blush of slim embarrassment at the impressed chuckles that resonated between the rest of the guys in the circle. Reaching down and taking a gentle hold around Wendy's wrist, the teenage boy pulled his girlfriend up from the sofa chair as she giggled away innocently to herself.

Taking a long, hesitant sip of his beer, Kenny's brow was furrowed slightly before he soon nodded his head in approval, "I like drunk Wendy."

With a subtle roll of his eyes, Stan began to lead himself and Wendy away from the boisterous group. He was careful to keep his quiet tone to her sweet and kind so as not to let her think he was annoyed with her. Just as they had almost shuffled their way between the multiple teenagers sitting on the floor, Stan looked down as he felt a tug on the leg of his jeans.

Gazing down to his best friend where he sat on the carpet, Stan watched as Kyle shook his head and scrunched up his nose with a laugh, "How the hell did you ever convince her to do... to do _that_?"

With a huffing sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, Stan could only shake his head right back at his oldest friend. Kyle knew more than anyone just how much Stan struggled with Wendy's lack of public affection, and this accidental confession from her had certainly thrown the red head through a loop, too.

"With great difficulty," Stan answered through gritted teeth, taking a final step away from his tipsy group of friends, "Not that it's probably going to happen ever again now."

With a grumble of disappointment, Stan moved his tender grip to Wendy's hand, feigning a soft smile as she laced her fingers together with his. For some odd reason, there seemed to be a larger number of drunken teenagers running rampant through the living room than what Stan remembered from about an hour ago. He did his best to successfully weave himself and his girlfriend through the hectic crowd, before finally settling for a place on the staircase as he sat down.

The dark haired boy rolled the sleeve of his hoodie down over his hand to wipe away the few speckles of a spilled drink on the step beside him so Wendy could sit down, too. But, of course, before he could even coax her into place, Stan found himself heaving another grunt as Wendy chose to instead plonk herself right down in his lap. She straddled his legs face-to-face, batting her long, dark eyelashes at him.

"Was I not 'sposed to say anything about the locker room thing?" she slurred with a guilty frown, "Are you mad?"

Stan sighed quietly to himself and scratched the back of his neck as Wendy continued to implore him with her big, sad, brown eyes. It would have been nice, he thought to himself, if Wendy had given him a little bit of warning before thrusting the both of them into the spotlight like that.

But, honestly now... as he stared at the insanely beautiful girl sitting in his lap, Stan was finding it absolutely impossible to stay angry at her for just about anything she had ever done.

"No," he admitted sheepishly, "But just don't go blaming me for any of this in the morning, though, got it?"

Giggling to herself all over again, Wendy inched her way closer to Stan, her laughter only increasing as he gently tugged her short, black dress down to conceal her underwear and cover her thighs as best as he could. The teenage girl felt her skin tingle in delight from head to toe as he slinked his arms around her hips and joined his hands together against the small of her back.

Dozens of familiar faces were still zooming by where they sat, but none of them could cause Stan or Wendy to second guess the intoxicating affection they were placing on one another. Stan adored her so much that it all simply came as second nature to him. But, at the same time, that didn't mean he still wasn't harbouring any concerns for just how much that all might change again once this night was over.

"Hey, so seriously, though..." he began shyly, tightening his loving grip around his girlfriend, "Are you feeling okay? I just never really pictured you... ya' know, wanting to party this much and stuff."

The teenage boy wasn't certain if there was much point in attempting any kind of serious conversation with Wendy while she was in her current state, but hell, it was worth a shot. He waited with a breath held in as he spotted her narrow her vision at him. She was clearly trying to dissect the question he had just asked her, but soon enough, Wendy could only shrug her shoulders.

"W-well," she began with a hiccup, "When Bebe took my phone off me and gave me a drink, she was just sorta' saying how important tonight was to her and how she wanted everyone to cut loose and have fun and didn't want anyone being a buzzkill... anyone like me, I guess..."

Slowly shaking his head back and forth, Stan was left speechless for a surprised second or two. That was the last thing he had ever been expecting to hear from his girlfriend. He was used to Cartman and the rest of the guys making lame jokes or spewing sniping little comments about Wendy... but one of the girls? And Bebe of all people - Wendy's supposed best friend? It all made Stan's heart sink into his stomach with sadness.

"Hey."

The sweet, yet defiant tone in his voice made Wendy's chest freeze and her tipsy head stop spinning for a moment. Stan tenderly cradled her cheeks with his hands, gently stroking the left side of her face with his thumb. Moving one hand to her shoulder and the other down to her knee, Stan squeezed softly as he absolutely implored her with his sparkling, blue orbs.

"Fuck what anyone thinks about you. Don't listen to any of them," he promised her, "You're perfect just the way you are."

Wendy could swear that she almost forgot how to breathe.

It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to hear Stan place these kinds of loving compliments on her - not by any stretch of the imagination. But in that moment, a moment where she had felt sort of embarrassed and where she knew she wasn't acting anywhere near like her regular self, it was purely spine tingling for Wendy to hear that Stan still saw her in such a perfect light.

Shuffling towards him in his lap, Wendy smirked through her adorable blush and brought her lips back to Stan's again. The teenage boy closed his eyes, happily revelling in the familiar sensation for a few precious seconds.

He held his teasing chuckles down, amused by the slightly stale taste of alcohol on Wendy's breath. He really had to start thinking about putting her to bed soon before she completely flew off the handle and made herself sick. But there was no way in hell that Stan was trusting enough to just tuck her in and leave her passed out alone in Bebe's guest room - not while his tipsy friends and the older, sleazy college guys were just as drunk and still roaming around the house. He wasn't particularly tired, but that wasn't going to stop Stan from sticking by Wendy's side and turning in for the night, too.

On that thought, as he pecked at Wendy's lips once more, Stan tried to gently wriggle out of her grip. Immediately tensing her grasp around him, Wendy pouted at her boyfriend with a frown.

"Where are you going?" she whimpered.

Stan laughed softly at her, attempting to nudge her out of his lap again, "I just gotta' pee," he chuckled, leaning in to lovingly kiss on her on the forehead, "Don't go too far away, I'll only be a minute, okay?"

Just as he was certain that he would be able to quickly scurry away before his bladder completely imploded, Stan sensed himself being forcefully held down in his place once more. Wendy waited for a moment, letting her stubborn grip on him linger for a second or two before she moved her hands down to his.

An immediate spark went shooting up Stan's arms at the warm feeling of Wendy's hands in his. Glancing up to meet her glistening eyes, the teenage boy felt his heart skip a beat. Her brown orbs were still twinkling with the same incredible happiness that she had felt when he had just assured her of how perfect she was.

Licking her bottom lip, Wendy's voice was wobbly with emotion as she spoke.

"I love you so much."

Instantly, the weight of the entire world was miraculously lifted from Stan's shoulders.

Any torturous notion of what Wendy had been meaning to talk to him about earlier that evening was suddenly the absolute last thing on his mind. As the teenager's chest slowly began to regain its regular, rhythmic heartbeat, Stan felt his stomach flip as he smiled at Wendy.

"I love you, too."

Without wasting another second, Stan tenderly wrapped his arms around Wendy's waist and hugged her close to his torso. His eyes were shut, and he felt an array of goosebumps shoot up his skin under his hoodie as Wendy laced her own arms just as lovingly around his neck.

He wished that the two of them could just stay frozen like this for the rest of the night, but an unwelcome sense of reality was knocking harshly at the door in the front of Stan's mind. He knew Wendy would benefit even slightly from an early night, and besides, his full bladder wasn't going to patiently wait for him much longer.

Finally managing to escape his girlfriend's grasp, Stan stood up on the staircase and took Wendy by the hand as he brought her to her feet, too.

He simply beamed at her, "I'll be right back, beautiful."

Wendy's head felt dizzy as she nodded up and down in agreement. Her heart skipped a beat at Stan's charming grin and soft chuckles as he quickly turned around and climbed the rest of the stairs to the second level of Bebe's house.

She continued to watch him as he ascended the very top step. As blurred as her drunken vision was, Wendy wasn't having a single issue with focusing on the irresistible image of Stan. Her eyes wandered all the way up his alluring figure. She recognised the black jumper covering him as the one that she would normally steal for herself and wear to bed whenever she stayed the night with him.

And then, just like that - a thump of anticipation abruptly rocked Wendy's core as a dull sensation rumbled in her abdomen.

Without stopping to think, the seventeen year old girl took another purposeful step up the staircase. Just as she was about to take a second one, Wendy paused for a moment and blinked, suddenly spying Bebe walk past her in the corner of her eye.

"Bebe!"

The birthday girl came to a sudden halt at the sound of her name being screeched over the pounding music from the staircase. She had been on her way to the kitchen to retrieve some more drinks for the game she was still in the midst of playing with her cousin and her friends. Come to think of it, she had sort of begun to wonder just where Wendy and Stan had disappeared to.

The blonde girl flicked her curly hair to one side and she gawked up at Wendy, "What?" she asked with a confused laugh, "Ash told me to go get more drinks, what is it?"

Bebe's bewildered frown only deepened as the dark haired girl bounded back down the stairs and grabbed her by the wrist. There seemed to be an extra kind of pep in her step. Her other hand was nervously fiddling with the hem of her black dress, and her deep, brown eyes were certainly more dilated than when Bebe had last seen her. Giggling to herself as her curiosity only increased, Bebe suddenly found herself being dragged around the corner by her best friend into the privacy of her family's empty dining room - well out of earshot of all her other party guests.

What the heck was going on?

"Wendy - "

"Just come here for a sec!" the teenage girl cut in with an excitable tone.

The initial feelings of uncertainty that Wendy had felt upon hearing that Bebe's birthday dinner was being replaced by a full-blown, alcohol fuelled party were still incredibly raw in the back of her mind. She hadn't been too sure of exactly how she pictured the night was going to play out, or even if she going to enjoy herself and have a good time.

But now, her hopes and desires for the rest of that evening were all too clear to her. They had been since the very second she spotted Stan walk through the front door. She knew how she wanted her night to end now. And Wendy was certain that she going to make it all happen.

"There's something super amazing and super important I gotta' tell you..."

 _-x-_

 **Alright, so apparently, I probably need to stop estimating how long these stories are going to be before I start writing them. Because this has now turned into five parts!... which I suppose is still subject to change ;)**

 **Thanks so much for reading! Please feel free to leave me a review - I would love to hear what you all thought :)**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyyyy x**


	4. Part Four

_**Like It's Her Birthday.  
** Part Four - _

_-x-_

Shutting the bathroom door behind him, Stan flipped up the seat of the toilet and unzipped his fly, instantly feeling a sense of relief sweep through him. But in that moment, it wasn't just the emptying of his bladder that was easing the nervous beating of his heart that had been completely suffocating his chest no longer than five minutes ago.

Stan frowned to himself slightly and chuckled under his breath as he pictured the adorable, yet confusing, persona that had taken over his girlfriend that night. The teenage boy wasn't necessarily unaccustomed to all the attention Wendy had been placing on him - he revelled in enough of that when the two of them were alone together. Instead, it was the fact that she had seemingly backflipped on all of her usual rules about public displays of affection that had put the extra pep in Stan's step.

But he wasn't complaining. And he certainly wasn't troubling himself with thoughts of her earlier attempted conversation with him back at her house. Even if she did try to recommence the daunting talk with him again in the morning - surely Wendy wasn't considering giving Stan any bad news, or even going as far as breaking up with him. Not after how she had been acting towards him that evening. Surely. How bad could it really be?

Just as these last couple of thoughts drifted across Stan's mind, the eighteen year old boy suddenly jumped in surprise to hear the doorknob of the bathroom struggling to be twisted open.

Quickly shaking himself off and trying to pull his fly back up, Stan turned his head to face the entry way, "Dude, occupied!"

Before he had the chance to spew any further insults he could feel brewing in his brain, the wooden door hastily swung open, revealing the clumsy figure standing on the other side of it. As they took a first step onto the tiled floor of the small room, Stan narrowed his eyes.

"Wendy?"

The teenage girl could only giggle to herself as she read the insanely cute expression of confusion spread across her boyfriend's face. She shuffled a few more inches into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with an unintentionally loud slam. Stan couldn't help but join in with her laughter at her progressively odd and tipsy antics.

"What are you doing?" he chuckled, "I told you I'd be right back."

Just as she had been about to answer him, Wendy allowed her vision to zero in on Stan as he reached down to re-button his jeans. In the very next instant, and without quite realising what she was doing, Wendy didn't stop to think as she suddenly leapt towards Stan and affectionately took his hands in hers.

"Mm-mm," she murmured with a shake of her head, responding to his previous question, "I didn't want to wait for you."

Stan's heart was in his throat. A million layers of goosebumps coated every inch of his skin, until the sensation was abruptly replaced with a tremour of pure anticipation as Wendy leant in and teasingly brushed her lips against his.

The teenage boy was sort of frozen in place for the first few moments - trying to hold down his familiar, nervous puke, and simply allowing his girlfriend to kiss him again and again without exactly returning the sentiment just yet. His whole body shivered from head to toe as Wendy's hands soon found their way up under his sweatshirt and he felt her manicured fingertips claw at his hips.

In the next moment, as she manoeuvred him away from the centre of the bathroom and forced him to lean into the glass wall of the shower, Stan sensed each of his muscles tense up with an incredible amount of apprehension. As Wendy moved her mouth away from his and her lips found his neck, provoking the soft skin with her teeth every few nibbles, the dark haired boy felt a heavy breath escape his lungs as he finally tried to ease his beautiful girlfriend away from him.

"Wendy..."

But still, the seventeen year old was defiant. She brought her lips back to Stan's in an attempt to - quite frankly - make him shut the hell up and hurry up and kiss her back already. Another shudder ran throughout his core as Wendy's hands suddenly left the skin of his back and instead moved down towards the fly of his pants.

The teenager found himself silently hesitating to himself for a few fleeting moments. Was it completely creepy and disgusting and careless of him to hook up with his girlfriend like this while she totally drunk out of her mind and had absolutely no control over her inhibitions? That was definitely the way Stan felt at first. And yet, with each daring tug that Wendy made at his zipper, and each reluctant throb Stan could feel inside of his jeans, he quickly shook the nagging thought off.

It's not like Wendy was trying to do something that they had never done before. And besides, this wasn't some random, sleazy bathroom hook up. Stan loved Wendy. He was perfectly capable of allowing the two of them to get lost in pure lust with one another while keeping her safe and protected at the same time.

With this tempting thought rapidly becoming the most powerful in his mind, Stan finally felt his body loosen up and completely surrender to Wendy's touch as he deepened their kiss and lovingly licked at her lips with his tongue.

A dull, pleased murmur echoed from the back of Wendy's throat as she met Stan in the passionate battle and tied her tongue together with his. Her knees felt weak as he laced his strong embrace around her waist and pulled her flush against him. As their hips pressed together, Wendy grinned through their kiss at the feeling of the slight bulge sitting in the crotch of Stan's pants rubbing up against her.

His fingertips ran over the sheer section of her black dress, leaving a trail of goosebumps along her skin just under her bust. The anticipation rumbling in her core was quickly becoming too much to handle. Through her hazy, clouded mind, there was only one thought that stood out to Wendy as clear as day. And that was how badly she suddenly wanted her boyfriend.

Stan leant his head back into the glass wall of the shower with a deep sigh and a chuckle mixed with disbelief and excitement as Wendy completely pulled down his fly and then clumsily collapsed to her knees on the tiled floor. He shut his eyes, running his hands through her black hair and losing his fingers in the tangled top knot sitting in a bun on the back of her head.

The gorgeous teenage girl laced her dainty grip along the inside of Stan's gray coloured briefs, but before she could dare to pull them down, Wendy leant in towards him again. Her lips collided with the sensitive skin right above his underwear line as her nose pressed into his pelvic bone and she began kissing and sucking with all the raw desperation she could muster.

A raspy, pleasured gasp exploded from Stan's lungs as he felt a final pinch in Wendy's kiss before he gazed down to see the enticing, red hickey glowing against his skin and staring right back at him.

He swallowed, hard, "Shit..."

The dark haired boy's blue eyes were hungry for more as he eagerly watched Wendy smirk up at him from the floor of the bathroom. In a short moment before she proceeded, Wendy tried to adjust her position on the ground, shifting her weight slightly in an attempt to become comfier. But, of course, her drunken motor skills and poor hand-eye coordination had a very different idea.

Stan's eyes immediately snapped open as he felt Wendy slip from his grasp and he heard her fall flat on her backside and bump her head against the cabinet under the bathroom sink.

Reaching around to rub the sudden sore spot on the back of her skull, Wendy flinched, "Ow."

As he caught her still smiling at him, Stan's sharp second of panic subsided as he shook his head at his girlfriend, "Shit," he repeated, this time with an entirely different tone, "Okay, that's it," he urged her, "Time for bed."

Reaching down for her hand, Stan grunted another laugh as Wendy struggled to find her feet like a baby giraffe learning to walk for the first time. Securely wrapping a strong arm around her waist to keep her upright, the teenage boy stretched his other hand down towards her ridiculously high shoes.

"Foot," he demanded, slipping off her first hot pink stiletto as she placed her foot in his hand, "And the other one."

Wendy was a barrel of giggles all over again as she leant into Stan while he walked her back out into the hallway of Bebe's house. His zipper remained down, but he quickly did the button of his jeans back up while trying to keep a tight grip on his girlfriend and her shoes at the same time.

A few pairs of curious, familiar orbs pierced the young couple as they took the short journey from the bathroom to the guest bedroom. A smug smile was subtly sitting in the corner of Stan's mouth. He would die for the chance to see the looks on the faces of Cartman and the rest of the guys at the thought of their stupid little bet and all their money going up in flames right before their eyes. But he supposed the opportunity to brag could come later. There was something a little more important Stan needed to worry about in that moment.

As he managed to swerve around a few more of their tipsy friends that were blocking their path, Stan approached the door to the bedroom beside Bebe's with Wendy still close by his side. Reaching out for the handle, he twisted it and nudged the wooden door open, trying to quickly usher his girlfriend inside.

As much as he may have been enjoying their spontaneously sensual make-out session in the bathroom, Stan knew deep down that the one thing Wendy needed more than anything else right now was sleep. The mission he had set out on to deliver her comfortably to bed for the night seemed like a pretty simple one. Despite how many drinks she had consumed, she was actually cooperating with her boyfriend for the most part and wasn't putting up much of a fight.

But, in that moment, Wendy was on a mission of her own. And while it was one that also included the guest bedroom - unlike Stan, the thought of sleep was the absolute last thing on the excitable teenage girl's mind.

Stan frowned in confusion for a second as Wendy giggled again and reached up to playfully rip his red poofball hat from his head. Without uttering a single word, Wendy hung the blue and red beanie over the doorknob on the outside of the room. His eyes widened slightly, but before Stan had the chance to question her actions, Wendy tugged him in the bedroom and quickly shut the door behind them.

And then, she was there all over again.

Stan felt his heart rate peak once more and dropped Wendy's shoes cold to the floor as she sprung right back towards him and planted her lips against his. His body had barely been given the chance to come down from the hormonal rollercoaster of their first near-encounter. So, naturally, Stan's attempts at protest was even weaker than his earlier endeavours. He was a man, after all. There was only so much temptation both Stan and Wendy were able to take.

Wendy smiled into their steamy exchange and stumbled only slightly as Stan gently drove her back in the door of the bedroom. He returned her kiss just as passionately, with one hand wrapped around her and squeezing at her hip and the other lightly clawing at the back of her neck. With his head freed of his usual hat, the quarterback's hair was an easy target for Wendy as she lovingly ran her hands through his raven locks and knotted her fingers through the back of it.

To say that this night had taken a turn that Stan wasn't expecting was an extreme understatement. All of his most daunting concerns were almost a complete distant memory to him. Just as he was only another kiss or two away from totally losing himself in the irresistible presence of his girlfriend, Stan sucked a desperate breath into his lungs as Wendy suddenly stopped all movement of her lips and pulled back from him.

Grinning up at him through teasing eyes, Wendy ran her hands under Stan's black hoodie once more. She stood up on her toes, inching closer to the side of his face and coming close to nibbling on his ear as she whispered to him.

"You're w-wearing," she attemtped to say with a hiccup, "Wearing _way_ too many clothes."

Stan's entire body shuddered with lustful anticipation. The lump that had moments ago vanished from the crotch of his jeans was quickly starting to return to him as he licked his bottom lip and paused, hesitating for a second or two.

Was what it that Kenny had said to him earlier that evening? He might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts? Stan had certainly been doing that so far, and God only knew how much longer this moment with Wendy would actually survive. Aside from that, Stan was struggling to remember the last time he and his girlfriend had even indulged in the sensual benefits that came with being in a relationship. It sure had been a while now.

Was Wendy going to be embarrassed by the stories of all her antics the next morning? Maybe. But did Stan think that caving to both of their sudden desires was worth the risk of that? Absolutely.

Meeting her hands where they sat at his lower back, Stan skimmed his fingertips against Wendy's for a loving instant before obeying her subtle command. He grabbed the bottom of his sweater and began to pull it up over his head, but Wendy's hands were suddenly there again, too, encouraging him to take his tank top along with it.

The sight of his lean, bare torso drove Wendy wild as she threw his shirt and jumper to the carpeted floor of the bedroom. She pecked at the soft skin of his chest just once before attacking his kiss with hers again.

Stan smirked against her lips, feeling the blood rush through his veins with more elated excitement than he had felt in the longest time. He wrapped his slightly toned arms around the beautiful girl in front of him and squeezed her in a tight hug while he continued to kiss her. Allowing his hands to daringly creep up the length of her back, Stan's smile grew as he soon found the zipper of Wendy's dress with his fingers.

"You look so fuckin' smoking in this dress," he hummed into her, "But it's keepig you _way_ too covered, too."

With each extra milimetre that Stan brought her zipper down, Wendy sensed more and more goosebumps pop up over the skin of her back. The sensations bubbling within the both of them from their incredibly close contact was quickly becoming too much for Stan to control any longer.

The dark haired boy took one step backwards, guiding Wendy along with him and keeping her from stumbling over. As soon as he felt the back of his legs come into contact with the wooden bed frame and the soft duvet that covered the mattress, Stan collapsed into a comfortable heap on the bed, pulling his girlfriend down on top of him.

There was a desperate struggle for the two of them to immediately position themselves properly. Stan shuffled up the bed and placed his head on the pile of pillows, stretching out as straight as an arrow while Wendy sat up on top of him for the moment, straddling him.

As the teenage boy reached up and finally tugged down on the end of her zipper, Wendy gathered the bottom of her black dress in her hands and seductively whipped it over her head. Instantly, Stan's sharp, blue eyes bulged right out of his skull. He had been the one to zip Wendy up earlier that evening, and still, somehow, he managed to forget that his girlfriend had chosen not to wear a bra under the tight fitting garment. But he was _definitely_ being reminded of that now.

Hungrily locking his vision on her and the appetising sight of her breasts as they bounced free from her dress, Stan grabbed onto Wendy's wrist and tugged her down towards him. The dark haired girl's legs remained on either side of her boyfriend's hips as she tightened the grip she had around him and bent down to meet her lips with his.

Wendy could finally feel a sense of power in the passionate encounter swing away from her and towards Stan. Her boyfriend had utterly crumbled before all of her commands and was now taking full control of the situation for himself. She shuddered under his touch as his fingertips daringly crept up her sides against her ribcage. An array of tingles exploded throughout her as his right hand suddenly grazed the soft skin on the underside of one of her breasts.

Between their kiss, a shaky gasp abruptly echoed from the very back of Wendy's throat as Stan's hands began to wander with more purpose. He caressed her bare chest, tracing his thumb around the edge of her nipple and gently pinching the very tip of the pink nub. The dull, pleased murmurs from her mouth vibrating against his lips were all the encouragement the teenager needed as he quickly began to move his kiss down her neck, across her collarbone, and then finally engulfed her naked mound into his mouth.

Wendy squeaked and moaned with delighted surprise at the sensation. Stan grinned at her pleasured groans. The music downstairs thumping from Bebe's living room was still as loud as it had been all evening. Stan wasn't certain just yet how far this amazing night with Wendy was going to go for either of them, but he did at least know that no-one outside the bedroom was going to be able to hear any of their incredibly aroused noises.

On that tempting thought, Stan ran his hands back down Wendy's body, clasping them around her bottom half that was only covered in a plain pair of black panties. He dragged her further up his frame until she was sitting on his abdomen, narrowing the gap between his mouth and her chest. Switching to her second, neglected breast, Stan shut his eyes as he ran his tongue around her nipple, feeling Wendy shiver on top of him before he gently bit down with his teeth.

His hands were glued to the top of Wendy's thighs as he felt her grind her hips against his. The action sent an electric tingle shooting up Stan's spine as he moaned into his girlfriend's chest. He clawed deeper at her skin, encouraging her movements and pushing her back and forth on top of him. The sensation was absolutely exhilarating. It was so overpowering - so much so that Stan almost had the feeling that the stimulation alone would be enough to get him off. Almost, but not quite.

Suddenly pulling back from him, the sensitive skin of Wendy's breast left Stan's lips with a smacking sound as she took her own lips back to his neck, quickly inching them further and further down his body. She left a sensual trail of saliva across his chest, down his torso, and over the skin of his abs that were only lightly raised from his stomach.

Popping back open the button of his fly, his jeans were finally pulled down the entire length of his thighs as Stan shuddered in anticipation. He tried to completely wriggle out of them, laughing as Wendy assisted him and took the denim pants past his knees, down the rest of his legs and over his feet. The teenage boy parted his legs, granting his gorgeous girlfriend easier access to his body as she leant down and kissed the top of his underwear line.

Wendy's tongue ran back over the hickey that was still sitting raw against his skin, and then, at long last, she took her hands to the hem of his briefs and swiftly tugged them down.

Her face heated up bright red at the sight of his bulge as it sprung free from his underwear. The whole bottom half of Stan's body ached with each impatient throb he felt from his rod while Wendy ripped his gray underwear from him. The very second that she wrapped a firm hand around him, Stan felt himself sink into the mattress as he was crushed by the weight of his arousing desires.

As her hand moved up and down, Stan groaned.

"Holy shit..."

A delighted smirk popped up in the corner of Wendy's lips at the sound of Stan's pleased words. The drunken persona that had a tight grip on the dark haired girl told her to tighten her grasp around him, too, as she continued to pump him with her skillful hands. She was sending his hormones rocketing off into space as a second moan escaped him.

"Mpmh," he murmured with a chuckle, "God, I thought you were amazing in the locker room, but - "

"Shut up," she cut him off with an embarrassed giggle, suddenly plummeting her lips back against his.

Each movement of her hand as she continued to keep up the pace sent Stan's passions spinning into a whirlwind as he bit down on Wendy's bottom lip. The very second that he hummed for the third or fourth time with pleasured delight into her mouth, Wendy took a daring sprint away from second base.

Stan very nearly caved to a climatic explosion as soon as Wendy's lips concealed the end of his length. Her tongue stimulated the sensitive organ as his thighs tensed up and he threw his head back into the mountain of pillows. Wendy's head bobbed up and down while her hand kept the same timely pace, causing Stan to suck a deeply aroused gasp into his lungs and groan out loud.

"Fuck yes, Wendy..."

His desperate words only encouraged Wendy even further as she began to move faster and suck harder, pushing her boyfriend to the absolute brink of pleasure. Stan clawed at the sheets between his fingers and snapped his eyes tightly shut, unwillingly arching his back as an ultimate sense of arousal shot up his spine.

Just as a murmur of resistance left his lips and he felt himself almost topple over the edge, Stan breathed a sigh of surprised relief as Wendy suddenly ceased all her powerful movements.

Blinking open his eyes, a confused frown creased its way into Stan's forehead. In the next moment, though, the eighteen year old simply shook his head with a smirk at the sight of Wendy struggling to wriggle out of her own underwear. Stan chuckled under his breath. His girlfriend was obviously expecting him to soon return the same favour. But, hey, it was only fair. And aside from that, it had probably been a pretty damn good call on Wendy's part to stop for a moment and give Stan the chance to regather his will power and last a little longer.

Settling back into the pillows at his head, Stan gently closed his eyes and braced himself for Wendy's lust to be unleashed on him all over again. He shuddered and laughed with another elated moan as he felt Wendy wrap herself back around the very tip of him. He waited with thumping anticipation for her tongue to assist her mouth and indulge back in the complete taste of him. But for some reason, the familiar sensation didn't return to him. This felt sort of... different. So different, in fact, that as Stan started to think less with his crotch and more with his brain, he opened just one eye and curiously peaked at Wendy.

Immediately, his vision widened with a shocked sense of panic.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed over the music still echoing in the hall, "Whoa, hey, hey, wait a sec!"

Staring right back at him from where she sat on his abdomen, Wendy froze in her place. Her hand was still gently wrapped around him, but his length wasn't anywhere near her mouth anymore. Instead, as Wendy sat in an upright position above him, the very, very tip of Stan was just placed inside of her. He couldn't believe it. She was trying to go all the way. She was trying to have sex with him.

Swallowing an incredibly nervous gulp, Stan shot his girlfriend a supportive smile, trying to keep his tone calm, "Whatcha' doing?"

Giggling at the innocence of his question, Wendy brought herself back down, sitting in Stan's lap as she let go of him.

"What do you mean what am I doing?" she repeated, still laughing slightly, "I'm doing _it_. I'm ready to do _it._ With you."

The playful smile instantly fell from Stan's face as all the colour drained from his cheeks and his skin turned a pale, ghostly white. Was Wendy seriously asking him this right now?

"Aren't you ready, too?" she asked sweetly, waiting for an answer from him, "Stan?"

Stan was deathly silent. There was a sickly anxious feeling gurgling uncomfortably in his stomach. As he furrowed his brow and tried his best to properly mull over all the choices that lay before him, there was just one all powerful thought absolutely thumping in the front of Stan's mind.

Just like he had confessed to Kenny earlier that evening, even though they had done everything else with each other a thousand times - Stan and Wendy hadn't had sex yet.

Was he really going to take her virginity from her while she was completely drunk out of her mind? When, chances were, she wasn't going to remember any of this in the morning? Stan's hormones may have been begging and pleading with him for one thing, but his heart was certainly telling him another.

Quickly growing impatient with his indecision, Wendy took Stan back in her hand and re-positioned her entrance above him. Without sparing another second, Stan suddenly sprung forward from the bed and gently wrapped an arm around Wendy's waist.

"Okay, okay," he finally conceded to her, "Come here, baby."

Sweeping her to the side of him, Stan lay Wendy out on the bed and nestled in beside her. He gazed down for just a moment, beaming at her as she smiled right back. Shying away from the pure adoration twinkling in her brown orbs, Stan hesitated to himself for a second longer before slowly shaking his head. He knew exactly what he was doing.

The quarterback leant up on an elbow and brought his lips down to his girlfriend's, kissing her sweetly as his hand lovingly ran up and down her naked body. He caressed her chest, tickled lightly at her stomach, and then finally allowed his fingertips to dance along the skin between her parted legs. Wendy shuddered under his touch, instantly aroused by the contact with him. Their kiss deepened as Wendy moaned into Stan, his thumb lurking dangerously close to the very point of her entrance.

"S-stop teas-"

Before the last shaky word could even escape her, Wendy skidded to a silent halt and blew out a breath of heavy ecstasy as she felt Stan slip a finger inside of her. He smirked into her cheekily as he sensed her willpower absolutely crumble at his touch and she lost all control of their kiss.

Brushing his tongue against hers, he allowed a second finger to join his efforts as he continued to quickly pump them in and out of her. He loved nothing more than the sensation of feeling around inside of her and the sound of the pleasured noises he could produce from the back of her throat with his mere fingertips. His thumb assisted him, flicking and rubbing against the more sensitive area of her anatomy that Stan knew all too well. She had to be feeling raw from the insane friction in a matter of moments now, but still, Wendy found her husky voice between deep sighs once more.

"Aren't you going to..." she trailed off, groaning, "Aren't we going to... have s-"

Cutting her off all over again, Stan suddenly ripped his mouth away from Wendy's and shot it down to where his hands were busy at work. Wendy bucked her hips at the very first sensation of the moisture from her boyfriend's lips as it neutralised the flame between her legs. He left a path of wet kisses along the inside of her thighs, before a wicked idea of revenge popped into his mind.

Wendy hissed with heightened pleasure and a slim sense of dull pain as Stan sunk his teeth into the crease of her leg - right at the top of her thigh and just below her womanhood. He sucked and kissed as hard as he could, and then finally pulled back, grinning down at the hickey he left against her porcelain white skin identical to the one on his hip.

The dark haired girl threw her head back into the pillows behind her, giggling at the tormenting expression in Stan's eyes as he slowed the movement of his hand before burying his face between her legs. He traced his nose along her entrance, feeling an almighty sense of exhilaration cross him at her delicious scents. Once his tongue joined his fingers and he gently began to move around inside of her again, Wendy could already see some dark speckles of intense arousal form before her eyes.

"Oh my God..."

Her pleading murmurs only forced Stan onward as he increased in speed again and absolutely ravished her parted legs with his mouth like his life depended on it.

"Fuck, Stan!" she suddenly cried - the loudest noise to leave the room that evening, "Oh my God, shit, yes, fuck, fuck, ff..."

Stan was desperate to finish Wendy right then and there. She had never sworn so much or been so vocal before - not ever, so he knew she had to be close. And the very moment that a third finger slipped into her, Wendy went shooting above the stars.

"Holy fucking shit...!"

Stan smirked as he felt her walls tighten around his fingers and tasted her pleasured wetness in his mouth. The seventeen year old's breathing was heavy as she shuddered another time or two while her boyfriend gently took his hand away from her.

Wiping his dripping fingertips on the sheets - and making a mental note to strip the bed in the morning - Stan sighed out with just as much ecstasy as he gazed down at Wendy. She was a gorgeous, quivering mess where she lay with all four of her extremities strewn out across the bed in pure exhaustion.

Without sparing another second, Stan leant down and took either side of Wendy's face in his hands as he firmly kissed her forehead with all the infatuated love he could muster. He only parted from her for a half a second as he then pressed his own forehead against hers, staring at her directly in her hypnotising eyes.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

Wendy spat out an embarrassed giggle as a fiery, red blush filled her cheeks. She had just been able to hear Stan's words of devotion to her above the thumping tunes still blasting from Bebe's stereo speakers downstairs. She wasn't sure if the music had been quite loud enough to successfully conceal all her pleasured cries, but frankly, Wendy didn't care.

She still wasn't done just yet. Not if Stan didn't want her to be.

"What about you?" she spoke with a slight slur as she attempted to take her hand back down below his belt.

"No, no, don't be silly," he spoke, reaching down to stop her. Her linked his fingers lovingly with hers and squeezed tightly, "I got _you_ , dumbie, that's all I care about," he joked, brushing his nose against the tip of Wendy's, "You need to sleep, baby, you've had a long night."

"Have not," she argued, trying to swallow down a yawn until it impulsively echoed from the back of her throat.

Stan shook his head with a gentle laugh, "See?" he said, "Come on, you really should try to sleep off all this booze."

Wendy tried to resist for moment longer, but Stan's strength far outdid her own as he forced her to flop over onto her side while he pulled the duvet back for her. She snuggled in underneath it, instantly feeling her eyes droop and become heavier the very second that her head hit the pillow.

The teenage girl turned back around, reaching her hand across the bed in search of Stan, but only frowned when she spotted him swing his legs over the side of it and stand up, "Where are you going?" she asked in a fleeting moment of disappointment.

Looking back over his shoulder at her where he stood naked in the middle of the room, Stan chuckled under his breath, "I'm just turning the light off."

It was only another second before Stan walked across the room to do exactly this. He took a subtle glance down at himself, rolling his eyes to see that he was still only semi-hard. She owed him for this one, he thought to himself, tensing the muscles in his thighs to try and make the sensation subside. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, Stan finally flicked off the light and then collapsed back in bed beside his girlfriend.

Wendy didn't wait a single moment to nuzzle her head into his chest and wrap an arm around his torso. Stan held her just as close, feeling his heart beat lightly against his ribcage from the relaxing feeling of their bare bodies gelled together so perfectly.

The eighteen year old boy blew out a quiet sigh as he ran his hand through his girlfriend's raven hair and down her back. He was beginning to wonder just how much of all this Wendy was actually going to remember once they woke up the next morning. Where had this wild and ravishing side of her even come from? And why tonight? The two of them had been sexually active to a third base extent with one another for a couple of years now, but Wendy had never behaved as openly sensual and filled with lust as she had tonight. Was she going to be embarrassed? Was she going to have any regrets? And perhaps worse than all that - was Wendy going to feel awkward around Stan for trying to have sex with him?

Licking his bottom lip with every intention to speak and ask her how she was feeling, Stan glanced down at Wendy. But then, he only smiled with a silent laugh to find that she was already asleep. Whether she had actually drifted off into an exhausted slumber from how tired she was, or if instead she had completely passed out from how much alcohol she had consumed, Stan didn't know. But he didn't care, either.

Shuffling down into the bed to properly lie beside her, Stan wisped the longer of her black locks out of her eyes and gently kissing her on the cheek, whispering ever-so-quietly into the room.

"I love you, Wendy."

All that mattered to Stan in that moment was that Wendy was finally crashed out in bed for the night. She was happy, she was safe, and she hadn't tried to re-ignite any nerve racking conversations with him.

He was still a little scared. He wanted to know more than anything else what she had been meaning to tell him. But deep down, Stan could feel one other emotion tugging more forcefully at his heartstrings. And that was how relieved and proud he felt of himself and his actions that night.

Because, much more important than anything else - Wendy was still a virgin.

 _-x-_

 **As promised, something a bit smutty ;)**

 **Would love to hear what you all thought here! Now we just have to wait and see what's going to happen the next morning...**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyy x**


	5. Part Five

_**Like It's Her Birthday.  
**_ _Part Five -_

 _-x-_

Each tiny tick of the small-faced clock that sat on the nightstand was like a clap of thunder echoing in Wendy's brain. Her head was thumping in time with every second that went by as she struggled to finally blink her eyes open for the first time that morning.

Wendy felt the slightest sense of reprieve to find that the room in which she had fallen asleep was quite dimly lit and thankfully wasn't going to make her pounding headache any worse. There did happen to be a beam of light streaming in from the space between the window pane and the blinds, though, indicating that the sun was up and probably had been for some time now.

The seventeen year old girl didn't have the first clue what time it was. In fact, for an initial few moments, Wendy wasn't even certain where she had fallen asleep or why her head hurt so much or what she had been doing the night before. The last thing clear memory she had was being at home and how excited she had felt to be getting ready for... Bebe's birthday party.

Wendy's stomach suddenly turned. Blurry images of champagne glasses and shots of vodka came pouring back into her mind as she quickly realised just how dry her mouth tasted and how queasy her tummy felt. Gently bringing her hand to her head to rub her throbbing temple, Wendy feigned a subtle smile and a quiet chuckle to herself.

As awful as she may have felt in that moment, it was all sort of worth it to have had one hell of a fun night.

Rolling over onto her opposite side, Wendy shut her eyes again as she brought her voice to a husky mumble.

"Oh, God, my head..."

And then, the silence of the room was broken by a second, cheeky laugh.

"Ha, I thought that was going to be your reaction."

Snapping her eyes back open at the surprising sound of the deep, male voice, Wendy focused her confused vision for a second. An adoringly faint smile wriggled across her lips as he spoke to her again.

"Good morning."

Wendy's grin beamed even brighter as she gazed up at Stan where he sat beside her in the double bed. He smiled right back, locking his mobile phone that had been keeping him company and placing it down on the bedside table closest to him. He rolled over slightly to properly face his girlfriend, keeping his smirk on her.

"Hey," she exclaimed, watching as Stan snorted sarcastically under his breath.

"What? Surprised to see me or something?" he teased.

As joking as his tone was, and as bright and happy as the features of his face may have been, there was still an uncomfortably sick feeling bubbling in Stan's guts.

For almost half the night, the eighteen year old boy had been lying in bed awake, stewing on all kinds of dreaded possibilities of what Wendy might or might not remember in the morning from the messy night before. Despite the daunting thoughts of her attempted serious discussion with him, or the slight embarrassment of their uncharacteristically steamy bathroom hookup - more than anything else, Stan just hoped that his girlfriend wouldn't remember trying to have sex with him. Because the last thing he ever wanted was for Wendy to feel completely humiliated and irreversibly awkward around him.

Forcing down a nervous gulp, Stan held his breath as he waited for Wendy to answer him. She giggled from her place where she lay against her pillow.

"No, of course not," she spoke sweetly, "I just forgot that you and all the other guys crashed the party."

Holding in a sigh of pleasant relief, Stan shook his head of all his other nagging thoughts as he wisped a long strand of black hair out of Wendy's eyes, "Well, it's a good thing I did," he laughed, "Do you want me to go get you some painkillers and some water?"

Hesitating for second or two, Wendy soon shrugged her shoulders, "I think I'm okay for now," she answered, trailing off for another moment. She chewed down on her bottom lip and groaned with annoyance in herself, "Did I do anything stupid?"

"What?" Stan asked with another gentle chuckle, "No. No, you were fine, you were just cutting a little loose for once, that's all it was. Everyone else was drunk, too, Wendy, not just you."

Feeling a pink blush cross her at all his loving reassurance, Wendy snuggled down further into the blankets of the bed. Her senses were being driven crazy by the irresistible scents of Stan's black hoodie that was keeping her torso toasty warm. It caused her eyes to wander curiously up her boyfriend's body. The covers were pulled right up to his stomach, but it was clear to see that Stan wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Did I steal this from you?" she asked, hugging the oversized piece of clothing against her body.

Stan smirked at her again, "You woke up freezing cold in the middle of the night," he explained. The daring grin sitting in the corner of his lips only continued to grow at this thought. He had quite been enjoying he and his gorgeous girl sleeping naked beside one another before she woke up shivering and ruined all their fun.

Inching down a little deeper under the duvet, Stan sensed a rush of delighted heat race through him as he cradled the side of Wendy's face and ran his other hand up her bare back under his hoodie.

" _But_ , I could always warm you up right now if you're still a little cold."

Following the lead of his not-so-subtle suggestion, Stan eagerly leant down towards Wendy. He was being driven by nothing else but the thoughts of their incredibly romantic escapades from last night that he longed to indulge in once more. Just as he could almost envision the delicious taste of her lips - and some other parts of her body - against his, Stan's fiery mood was abruptly brought to a drearily damp halt.

"Stan," Wendy scolded, pushing him away from her, "Seriously? This isn't my house or your house - anybody could just walk straight in here."

And then, just like that, Stan felt the heatwave in his blood drop to freezing temperatures in his veins. The firm sensation of Wendy's manicured fingertips pushing against his chest was like an ice-pick piercing his heart.

Of course. Stan really should have seen this coming. Wendy was sober again.

The teenage boy had never felt like the two of them were more filled with passion or more in love with each than how he had felt in the small guest room with his girlfriend the night before. And now, Stan and Wendy were suddenly back to square one all over again.

Shaking his head at his naiive stupidity, Stan laughed to himself in disbelief.

"Well, that was nice while it lasted..."

The tone of spiteful venom echoing from under his breath made Wendy pause for a second. She watched with a deeply set frown as Stan defiantly moved away from her and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up.

Wendy swallowed, licking her tongue against her lips as her brow furrowed even more. Stan had never spoken to her like that before.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

When she was met with nothing but silence, Wendy felt a twinge of anger ricochet through her core. She coiled her spiked tongue, all too keen to challenge her boyfriend's comment once more, when all of a sudden, the dark haired girl skidded to a sharp quiet of her own.

As Stan threw the covers off himself and finally came to his feet, Wendy's jaw fell open slightly at the sight she was met with. It certainly wasn't something she had never seen before, but at the same time, as the teenage girl examined her boyfriend's totally naked body where he stood with his back to her, Wendy sensed a nervous knot tie up in her stomach.

The usually welcomed sight seemed to be keeping Wendy distracted for just a second too long as she quickly shook her head to herself. Stan was ignoring her, and he still hadn't answered her question.

"Stan?" she repeated firmly.

The elder of the two teenagers bent down to pick up his underwear as he pulled them on. Reaching for his jeans next, Stan stepped into them and grumbled under his breath, "Just forget about it, Wendy."

The dismissive tone in his voice made Wendy scoff. Not only was Stan acting like too much of a coward to explain to his girlfriend what he had meant, but he still hadn't turned back around to re-face her, either.

Wendy gritted her teeth, "Uh, no, I will not just forget about it," she sniped, "You obviously have something you want to say to me, so why don't you just grow some balls and say it?"

As her incredibly patronising words settled in the very back of his mind, Stan instantly felt his frustrations reach their absolute boiling point. Without quite realising what he was doing, or thinking over what he was about to say, Stan whirled around the spot and glared daggers at Wendy.

"You really wanna' know what I have to say?" he thundered, feeling his filter and his willpower completely escape him, "Last night was the first time _ever_ where it actually felt like my friends and my girlfriend were all in the same room at the same time!"

Driven to an immediate quiet at his furious words, Wendy narrowed her eyes at Stan where he towered over her. It wasn't just what he had said that had made her shrivel down into silence. As her vision zeroed in on the red and purple coloured love bite sunk into the skin above his underwear line, Wendy shuddered. She didn't remember leaving that there.

Shaking off the thought as his last statement finally registered with her, Wendy frowned and scoffed in disbelief once more, "Oh, please, that is absolutely ridic-"

"No! No way, dude," Stan cut her off, "You're the one who wanted to know what I meant, and it's about damn time I got all this off my chest."

Bringing his arms back down to calmly sit by his side, Stan drew a long breath as he tried to contain his anger. He had been holding in far too much emotion for far too long, but still, as he gazed at the shocked dejection in the features of Wendy's gorgeous face, he resisted the urge to lose control and completely fly off the handle at her. For now, anyway.

"I'm so sick of feeling like I'm totally invisible to you when we're out in public or around other people," he confessed, pausing, "I can't deal with it any more, Wendy."

The seriousness in his voice made Wendy's heart skip a timid beat. In the next second, though, the instant of terrified sadness left her. Who the hell did Stan think he was? Wendy was not prepared to simply sit back and let him subtly threaten her like that.

"So, what?" she snorted cynically, "You want me to throw myself at you in front of our parents and make out with you right in the middle of the classroom every day?"

As a chord snapped against his heart at Wendy's sarcasm, Stan's retort was immediate.

"No, what I want is for you to stop acting so goddamned embarrassed and ashamed to be around me."

The heart breaking tone in his surprising choice of words and the misery sitting in his baby blue eyes left Wendy's chest stinging. Any last trace of a sarcastic joke vanished from her voice as her vision drooped.

"That's not true."

"It _is_ true!" Stan snapped back, "Half the guys don't even know if we're still together any more, and whenever I decide that I care enough to try to tell them how happy we are, all they say is that I'm completely delusional!"

"Well, why _do_ you care so much? It's nobody else's - "

"I _know_ it's no-one else's business..."

Interjecting right into the middle of her favourite excuse, Stan allowed his trying tone to slowly trail off. Why the heck had he even opened his mouth in the first place? He never should have let Wendy goad him into it. He just felt so deflated and so crushed compared to how he remembered feeling with her during their amazing night before.

Wendy's memory wasn't anywhere near as clear as Stan's was, though. No matter how much he was trying to tell her just how affectionate she had been acting towards him, she was still struggling to piece together each and every one of her drunken actions.

Even if she had been all over him all night, all they were doing now was arguing with one another. Wendy wished they could just rewind to the faint memory she had of them sitting on the staircase together towards the end of the night. She could almost still hear the exact words Stan had spoken to her. He had said she was... that she was perfect. Wendy was perfect, just how she was.

So, why then was Stan suddenly back flipping on everything he had promised her last night?

As the realisation reached full awareness in her brain, Wendy swallowed down a sob as she parted her lips to speak, "What happened to 'fuck what everyone else thinks' and 'I'm perfect just the way I am'?"

Retrieving his tank top from the carpeted floor, Stan rolled his eyes, "Oh sure, you remember _that_ part..."

There was a pleading tone in Wendy's voice as she shook her head, "So, what, you didn't mean it?"

Bolting upright the very second that his head was through the hole in his shirt, Stan narrowed his frustrated eyes at Wendy. The severe doubt lingering in her words was almost insulting to him as his anger began to bubble up from within him all over again.

"Of course I fucking meant it!" he shouted, "But would it kill you for once in your life to stop caring about how perfect _you_ appear to other people and start actually trying to make _us_ and our relationship just that little bit more perfect?"

Wendy was speechless. There were about a thousand different factors that had sent her crashing into her renewed silence. She felt thrown to hear her boyfriend yell and swear at her like that. But she also felt a tonne of emotion fill her as he said that all he wanted was for the two of them to be more perfect together.

 _More_ perfect? Their relationship certainly felt much, _much_ less than perfect to Wendy in that moment. She forced down a nervous gulp, not wanting to say the wrong thing again.

"You don't have to be so mad at me."

"I'm not...!" Stan began, before stopping himself at the obvious aggression in his tone. He remained quiet for only half a second. And then, Stan sighed, "I'm not mad at you," he gently confessed. Pausing to hesitate his next words, the teenage boy felt his heart beat lightly in his chest as his blue orbs locked with the deep brown of Wendy's.

He truly wasn't angry at her. Not really. He sort of wished he could just climb back into bed beside her and give her a hug and put this whole argument behind them. But Stan knew just how badly he needed to release all the emotion that had been building up in his head and his chest for all this time. Wendy needed to know the truth about how he really felt.

"It was just nice - just for _once_... everyone was able to see that I'm _not_ delusional. And it's not just me who's totally in love with you."

These final words drifted almost noiselessly into the room as Wendy's lips parted slightly. Stan's voice may have been incredibly calm and quiet, but the exact syllables he had formed and the meaning behind them spoke absolute volumes.

Wendy remained still, waiting to see if Stan would say anything more to her. She certainly didn't have the guts to open her mouth and make another single sound at the risk of upsetting him again. The only noise that left her was a near mute sigh from the back of her throat as Stan eventually turned on his heels and opened the bedroom door. Snatching his red poofball hat off the door handle, he placed it on his head and only glanced back at Wendy once more before vanishing down the upstairs hallway and closing the door behind him.

The moment he was gone, Wendy felt her body shift slightly. It was almost as if the spiteful back and forth sniping with Stan had kept her completely frozen, unable to sense anything else other than how much it hurt to fight with him. She was definitely being reminded now of how sick she was still feeling from her long, crazy, drunken night of partying.

Her head was still pounding and her vision was still spinning as she collapsed back into the pile of pillows at the top of the bed and rubbed her weary, brown orbs. Wendy groaned in frustration. Taking her hands away from her face, she rolled her eyes to find them smudged with black makeup. She ran her fingers along her stomach slightly in a circular motion, not only trying to will away the sick feeling gurgling in her guts, but also any and all thoughts of Stan that were picking constantly at her brain.

He had to be over-reacting. That was all this was. Surely. The dark haired boy was probably annoyed with the guys for ripping on him and his relationship so much and was just looking for someone else to take that aggression out on. Wendy didn't ignore him anywhere near as much as Stan claimed she did, and she certainly wasn't embarrassed or ashamed to be seen with him. He was just being dramatic.

Finally huffing out loud and trying to shake off how aggravated by him she felt by him, Wendy grabbed the thick, white duvet and threw it off her body. The very second that she did, the teenage girl jumped out of her skin in surprise.

Wendy had a peculiar feeling that the sheets had felt extra comfy and extra smooth against her skin that morning, but she hadn't been able to tell that - just like Stan had been - her entire lower half was completely naked. But that wasn't the only reason why Wendy's eyes had suddenly widened at her heart had quickened in pace.

Forcing down an apprehensive gulp, Wendy took her finger to the the tender, red coloured hickey that sat almost right in between her legs. It was one thing to not remember gifting Stan with his own similarly passionate marking, but to have absolutely zero recollection of him returning the favour?

Wendy's stomach dropped to the pit of her very core. What else was she forgetting from their night alone together?

Trying her best to simply shake off the thought and hold all her nerve-wracked emotion - not to mention all her hungover vomit - within herself, Wendy climbed out of bed and quickly located her underwear. She fished them up from the floor and pulled them on before twirling around to narrow her glare at her black party dress lying in a heap in the corner. She definitely didn't feel like squeezing back into that accursed thing.

Gazing down to examine herself, Wendy hesitated for a moment. Stan's baggy jumper was just long enough to conceal her black panties as she sucked in a deep breath and then dared to crack open the bedroom door and peek out around the corner into the hallway. The teenage girl flicked her head back and forth about a dozen times before she was absolutely certain there was no-one else upstairs and then darted out of the guest room and rattled on Bebe's door.

"Bebe?" she hissed through a hushed tone, breathing a sigh of relief as her best friend almost instantly pulled open her bedroom door.

Without sparing a single second, Wendy leapt through the gap in the doorway and scurried her way into the centre of Bebe's room, spinning back around on the spot to face her best friend. As the blonde girl closed her door, she looked back to Wendy, tilting her head to side at how curiously dressed she was.

"Morning," Bebe offered with a slight giggle, "How are you feeling?"

Wendy rolled her eyes, "Like death," she spat, moving right along, "Can I borrow some jeans and a shirt? I didn't bring a change of clothes with me."

"Yeah, of course," Bebe answered, pulling open her closet. She reefed through the unorganised pile for a second or two before fishing out a pair of black, denim jeans, a white singlet and a loose fitting t-shirt for the dark haired girl.

Wendy caught the items of clothing as Bebe tossed them to her. She murmured out a quiet "thanks" and immediately turned around to get changed. Waiting for her as she did, Bebe slumped back down into her bed and gazed across the room at Wendy. Her best friend was firmly facing the corner of the room as she pulled Stan's hoodie off and quickly replaced her bare torso with the singlet top and t-shirt before pulling on the tight pair of skinny jeans.

A sly smirk popped up in the corner of Bebe's mouth. For a moment, the newly crowned eighteen year old girl had been wondering why Wendy hadn't entered her room with much more exuberance that morning, considering the last thing Bebe remembered talking to her about last night. But the sight of Wendy wearing nothing else but her underwear and her boyfriend's hoodie almost certainly answered any of the nagging questions picking at Bebe's mind.

"So?" she impatiently probed her longest friend, "How was it?"

Wendy frowned as she flicked her mass of black locks out the back of the t-shirt, "How was what?"

"How was last night?" Bebe shot back with a subtle roll of her eyes.

"Oh," Wendy replied, shuffling across the room to join her friend on her bed, "Yeah, totally, it was awesome. I mean, I feel like a complete mess this morning, but it was so worth it."

"So... you did it?"

Locking her vision with her best friend's emerald eyes, Wendy felt her brow collapse into a frown, "...Did what?"

At the uncertain tone in Wendy's voice, Bebe immediately sensed the excitement diminish from her eyes and her smile droop down her long face. Her chest felt tight as she suddenly prayed that Wendy was only messing around with her, "Um... don't you remember what you were talking to me about last night in the dining room before you went to bed?"

Reading the anxiety in Bebe's expression, Wendy gulped, "No?"

The tense silence that instantly filled the room could have been sliced with a knife. Willing herself to sit up further in her bed, Bebe awkwardly scratched the back of her neck as she tried to avoid Wendy's desperate eyesight. The blonde girl pressed her lips together, humming to herself as she hesitated the best way to reveal to Wendy what she had to say.

Finally, Bebe drew a long breath.

"...You said you were gonna' have sex with Stan."

All healthy colour completely drained from Wendy's face.

"I..." her voice trailed off as she chuckled with slight disbelief, "I what?"

"So, did you do it?"

"No! No, I mean..." Wendy's vision darted downwards to her lap and all around as her mind was suddenly racing at a million miles an hour. Forcing down a lump of emotion choking her in the back of her throat, the dark haired girl willed her heavy eyes to glance back up and stare at Bebe, "I don't know... I can't remember..."

Sucking in a fearful gasp, Bebe threw her blankets off herself and sprung forward, gently taking Wendy by the arm, "Okay, okay, let's just stay calm... at least if you did do it, it was with your boyfriend, right? I mean, you were eventually going to do it anyway?"

Ripping her arm away from Bebe's grasp, Wendy leapt off the bed and came to her feet, "Yeah, but I was counting on the fact that it was going to be an amazing, beautiful moment that I would remember forever!"

Joining her in the middle of the room, Bebe ran a hand back between her blonde curls before trying to comfortingly reach for Wendy's, "Okay, well, maybe you didn't do it, maybe - "

"I have a hickey pretty much right on my vagina, Bebe!"

The fear absolutely coating Wendy's shaken voice was all too obvious to Bebe as the blonde girl took a step closer to her best friend and instantly wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. Bebe sighed as she felt Wendy squeeze her back. She gently shushed her in an attempt to reduce any more unnecessary outbursts that Wendy surely wouldn't want any of their friends - or worse - any of the _guys_ hearing.

Bebe cringed slightly as her mind went over what Wendy had just confessed to her. And then, as the eighteen year old felt her eyes widen, Bebe pushed herself back from Wendy, "Wait, you've been on your pill long enough, right?"

"Yes," Wendy immediately countered, "Yeah, I've been on it for months. He knows I got on it to help with my cramps."

As the first real image of Stan during the frantic conversation crossed Wendy's brain at her mention of him, she felt her stomach turn, "But he also knows how important it was to me for us to wait and make sure it was perfect..."

Her words were wobbly with emotion as Wendy slowly slinked back towards her best friend's bed and took a seat, running her hands down her face. Bebe stifled a second sigh. She could see in Wendy's expression just how distraught she was by the thought of something that she wasn't even one hundred per cent certain had actually happened yet. But deep down, Bebe knew that if Wendy and Stan _had_ actually slept together, the last thing either of them needed was for their relationship to crumble because of it.

"Don't be too angry at him," Bebe urged softly, sitting down beside Wendy and placing a gentle arm around her waist, "I don't blame him if he wasn't able to talk you out of it. You were pretty damn determined."

Wendy shuddered, "I was?"

"Do you seriously not remember being all over him all night?" Bebe asked, tilting her neck with a small chuckle of disbelief as Wendy slowly shook her head back and forth, "Well you were. And you definitely pissed the guys off by fucking up their stupid little bet for them, they - "

Suddenly stopping herself before she could say anything more, the blonde girl bit down on her tongue and shot a wide expression at Wendy. But the seventeen year old was already staring back at her best friend with just as much confusion and apprehension. Crap. Bebe couldn't save herself now. She had said far too much.

"What bet?"

Bebe cleared her throat as she took her hand away from Wendy's torso and nervously scratched at her opposite arm. She needed an excuse, and she needed it now.

"It's... it's nothing, Wendy, just don't worry about - "

"What bet, Bebe?" Wendy demanded, "What are you talking about?"

Trying to desperately avoid the flames of near fury dancing in Wendy's eyes, Bebe's mind raced for a second or two longer and searched the very corners of her brain for some kind of fabricated truth. But ultimately, it was no use.

If Wendy thought she felt bad before, chances were she was about to feel a whole lot worse.

"It's nothing," Bebe repeated with a quiet murmur, "Cartman just started some gay little betting ring with some of the guys... They're putting money on how long it's gonna' be until you break up with Stan again."

As the last remnants of her confession slowly tip-toed off the end of Bebe's tongue, Wendy sensed her face turn white once more as her blood ran cold.

She swallowed, barely making a sound, "Which guys?"

Bebe lamely shrugged her shoulders, "Not all of them."

" _Which_ guys?" Wendy echoed, piercing Bebe with her pleading expression.

Staying as stern as she could for as long as she could, Bebe's willpower soon crashed down all around her as she licked her lips and released a final sigh, "Everyone except Kyle and Kenny."

Wendy's heart skipped a sad beat.

She couldn't feel the hungover sickness whirling in her stomach any more, and she couldn't sense any of her miserable concerns that laced together with possibly losing her virginity, either. All she could envision was how torn up inside Stan must have felt to not have any support or acceptance of his relationship from his so-called friends.

The dark haired girl felt her chest ache. Maybe her boyfriend hadn't been exaggerating as much as she thought he was.

"And Stan knows about this?"

Bebe heaved her shoulders once more, "They tell him it's just a joke, but I think deep down he knows it's really not."

Hanging her head with a long sigh, Wendy kept her eyes glued to her feet for a moment as she stood up from the bed and slowly made her way over to the door. Clearly there was still much, _much_ more that she and Stan needed to talk about.

Without saying another word, Wendy twisted the brass knob and pulled open the wooden door to Bebe's room. Her peculiar silence had left her best friend feeling sort of thrown as Bebe frowned and opened her mouth to speak before Wendy completely vanished.

"Wait, Wendy?" she asked, waiting as the dark haired cheerleader turned back slightly to face her, "You honestly don't know whether you slept with him or not?"

Wendy resisted the sensation of a nervous shiver running up her spine at Bebe's words. She couldn't even begin to imagine how it was going to feel if she discovered that she had wasted her and Stan's first time and thrown her virginity away just as easily as she had thrown so many glasses of champagne into the back of her throat the night before. But somehow, as much as that was going to suck, Wendy also knew that it couldn't possibly feel anywhere near as horrible as how she felt right now at the thought of how unfairly she had been treating her boyfriend. Even if she hadn't been able to realise it, Stan truly was feeling constantly neglected by her. And Wendy needed to fix that - right now.

Blowing out a quiet breath from between her dry lips as her mind cycled back to Bebe's last question of her, all the seventeen year old girl could do was lift her shoulders up and down in an innocent shrug, "I'll let you know as soon as I find out."

 _-x-_

 **I lied again. It's still not over.**

 **Please leave me a review to let me know your thoughts! :)**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyy x**


	6. Part Six

**_Like It's Her Birthday.  
_** _Part Six -_

 _-x-_

Wendy's heart felt just as heavy as she eventually stepped out into the upstairs corridor, shutting Bebe's bedroom door behind her. Whether she was feeling more thrown by the uncertainty of what exactly happened last night, or by the thought of how much she had hurt her boyfriend's feelings, she didn't know. But what Wendy _did_ know was that neither guilt-ridden lump sitting in her stomach would dissolve until she spoke to Stan.

On this thought, as Wendy's guts suddenly swirled with hungover sickness once more, the teenage girl darted into the upstairs bathroom to wash her face and her black, smudged eyes. She quickly searched the medicine cabinet for some painkillers, throwing them into the back of her throat and swigging them down with a burst of water from the faucet.

Gazing at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Wendy groaned out loud. Not only did she feel like death that morning, but she also kind of looked a bit like it, too. But no matter how vain she could force herself to be in the presence of all the guys she suspected were still downstairs with Stan, Wendy had something else that she needed to worry about much more in that moment.

The journey she took down the staircase felt like it lasted a lifetime. The house was still a bit of a wreck. It looked like those left standing had at least made a half decent attempt at properly cleaning up to save Bebe the trouble. But apart from the discarded bottles and cans and the out of place furniture, the living room was completely empty. Summoning enough bravery to do so, Wendy came to the carpeted floor at the bottom of the stairs and spun around on the spot. Taking a, long deep breath, the raven haired beauty then began to slowly tip-toe towards the kitchen, subtly peering around the doorway.

Thankfully enough, Bebe's cousin and the other couple of college guys were nowhere to be seen. Nichole and Red looked to be the only girls still present in the house as they chatted away at the small table in the centre of the room. Kyle was at the stove top, cooking up some bacon and other greasy breakfast items for his equally hungover friends. Kenny, Clyde and Token were trying their best to tidy up more empty cans and pizza boxes and other rubbish, but were all struggling to inch their way around Cartman who was leant over with his head hanging in the sink, coughing and spluttering and gagging every few seconds.

And then, there was Stan.

Wendy felt her heart beat lightly against her ribcage at the sight of the dark haired boy sitting a seat or two away from the girls. His eyesight was cast downward as he gloomily fiddled with the tassels of the table cloth between his fingers. A simmering guilt was still bubbling away within Wendy. It was one thing for Bebe to relay awkward details about the guys' stupid bet, but it was a complete other type of torture for Wendy to see with her own eyes just how down in the dumps her boyfriend was. That morning's events really _had_ upset Stan as much as he had been letting on.

A slim bead of sweat dared to trickle down Wendy's forehead at the thought of taking a step into the kitchen to confront him. She knew that if she projected even the slightest comfort or affection on the older boy, the guys would all pounce with some kind of stupid joke. She hated all their snide comments, and she hated feeling uncomfortable in front of other people.

But she didn't hate all of that as much as she loved Stan.

If in her moment of pure insanity and weakness, Wendy _had_ actually allowed herself to have sex, was she going to regret it? Probably. But was she going to regret that it was with Stan? Absolutely not. Never.

Looking up at the sound of timid footsteps as they crossed the tiled floor of the kitchen, Stan could only frown at Wendy for the first second. And yet, with each millimetre that she crept closer to him, the teenage boy sensed his surprised expression widen more and more.

Wendy could all but feel the curious eyes of all the guys and the two girls completely glued to her as she nervously folded her arms over her chest. It was actually sort of daunting. But no matter what her completely nerve-wracked brain may have been screaming inside her head at that point, Wendy's heart was speaking much, much louder. She knew she needed to make all this up to Stan somehow.

As she watched him scrape his chair back across the floor and part his lips to speak, Wendy didn't even allow a single sound to leave him. Immediately, Stan froze at the sensation of Wendy's tender grip on his shoulder and felt all of his breath escape his lungs with an unbelievable gasp as his girlfriend quietly and bravely placed herself down in his lap where he sat.

What the heck was going on?

"Ha, well, would ya' look at that," Kenny spoke with a smug laugh, sounding just as surprised as Stan appeared, "Looks like the party's just rolling right along for Stan and Wendy."

Shuddering at the sleazy comment from the blonde boy, Wendy gently shut her eyes to try to compose herself. The awkwardness of it all was picking relentlessly at her brain, begging her for something to make her feel more comfortable.

So, naturally, Wendy simply took her hand away from Stan's arm and instead gently joined both of them behind his neck. She felt her fingertips tingle as she ran them through the ends of his black locks before she leant in and lovingly pressed her lips against his.

Stan remained dumbfounded for only half a second before instantly returning the sentiment amongst the shocked sounds of gossiping murmurs creeping up in volume between all the other teenagers who filled the kitchen. Wendy merely blocked them all out as she pecked at Stan's kiss once more and then slowly pulled back from him.

The moment was one that had definitely been all too short lived for the eighteen year old as his crystal, blue eyes remained wide open with the most intense feeling of pleasant surprise he had ever succumb to. His cheeks were red with a blush as he gazed hopefully at Wendy, waiting on a knife's edge for to her speak.

When she eventually did, it was no quieter than whisper. And yet, it absolutely lit up Stan's entire world.

"I'm sorry."

Feeling his chest race, Stan took his hands down to Wendy's hips and squeezed at the top of her thigh, speaking back to her just as silently as he immediately shook his head.

"Don't be."

The deep shade of red crossed to Wendy's face as her features flushed with the same infatuated emotions that Stan's had. She reached one hand down for his, linking their fingers together, "Can we talk? Alone?"

Ignoring the cooing snickers from Red and Nichole and the unimpressed grumbles from Cartman, Stan tightened the grip on his girlfriend's hand, "Yeah, of course."

The teenager felt like he was on cloud nine as he lightly came to his feet and floated out of the kitchen, following Wendy's lead. He caught a supportive smirk from Kyle and Kenny right before they vanished from his line of sight, but then, the smile fell from his face. The heart racing kiss with Wendy had distracted Stan for just long enough until he was suddenly reminded of all the vicious words he had spoken to her upstairs no longer than ten minutes ago.

Stan gulped and sighed with disappointment in himself as he felt Wendy's hand drop from his. Had he gone too far that morning?

"Wendy... I didn't mean to upset you or hurt your feelings, I just - "

"No, no, it's fine," she cut him off, murmuring just to make sure none of their friends in the kitchen could still hear them.

She skidded to a stop in the middle of the living room, pausing for a quick second as she chewed down on her bottom lip. God only knew how nosy Wendy's girlfriends were, and one could imagine how much the boys were dying to know just how much their bet really was suddenly at risk. The teenage girl wanted to make absolutely sure that no-one was going to rudely interrupt the important talk with Stan that she knew she needed to have.

Reaching back for him once more, Wendy smiled the smallest possible smile at Stan as she lead him slightly around the corner and back towards the tall staircase. The quarterback's heart fluttered. He held in a subtle laugh as Wendy opted to actually take a seat on one of the steps, rather than in his lap as he gently took his place beside her. And then, Stan waited for Wendy to speak again.

When she did, she blew out a nervous breath.

"You're right," she admitted softly. She stopped one more time to properly gather her thoughts, "You do... _so_ much for me. You study with me after school instead of hanging out with the guys, you're super respectable to my parents, you put up with all my dumb bitching about the girls," she rambled on, "And you give me space when we're around other people. And you never complain."

Trying his best to suppress the teasing feeling of his growing ego at all her loving words, Stan cheekily rolled his eyes at Wendy, "Well, I never complained until _now_."

Echoing his chuckles, Wendy's grin quickly fell back to a sad frown. Despite how much her head was continuing to pound like a thunderstorm between her ears, she could still hear the exact words that Stan had spoken to her up in the guest room that morning, and she could still feel just how badly they had scraped at her heart.

Holding his hand tightly with hers in her lap, Wendy stared Stan directly in his baby blue eyes.

"I could never be embarrassed by you, or ashamed of you," she promised him, watching the happiness dance behind his orbs, "I honestly just like our private life being private, that's all it is. I feel like when we do get those moments alone it makes it more special, ya' know?" she tried to explain, "But just because _I_ feel that way, doesn't mean I shouldn't have thought about how it affected _you_..."

The blush in Stan's cheeks deepened to a darker shade of red with each gentle word Wendy spoke. He couldn't believe he had let his imagination run away with him so badly. Just because he may have been upset with the public status of he and his girlfriend, it didn't mean that he should have doubted Wendy's intention for the two of them and their relationship.

"I'll try harder," she murmured, "I promise."

Stan grinned at the gorgeous girl with reluctance, "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"And I don't want you to be unhappy with me, or resent me because of your asshole friends and their asshole bet and - "

Instantly shaking his head at her, Stan clutched at Wendy's shoulder affectionately as he cut her off, "Fuck the guys, and fuck their bet," he spoke firmly. For a short second, Stan wondered where Wendy had caught word of Cartman's betting ring from, but soon enough, he chose to simply shake off the thought. He smiled at her reassuringly, "And I could _never_ be unhappy with you."

As the elated smirk sprung back to her face at his words, Wendy paused for just a second before quickly following suit, completely leaping towards Stan and throwing her arms around his neck in an adoring hug. Without sparing another moment, Stan coiled his arms around Wendy's torso and squeezed her back just as tightly.

A huge weight was immediately lifted from Stan's shoulders at the pure sensation of Wendy's embrace. Because unlike last night when they had been alone in bed together, not only was Wendy hugging the life out of him in such an open space, but Stan also knew that she was completely sober and totally conscious of the fact that she was doing so.

As she nuzzled down more snugly into the crook of his neck, Wendy blew out a long breath and pulled Stan closer. Her mind was still racing. While she was relieved that she and her boyfriend had been able to get over their stupid argument and put it all behind them so quickly, Wendy was still holding in just a couple of unanswered concerns from that morning. Her head was painfully buzzing with the thoughts of the peculiar physical evidence sunk into the skin behind her underwear, not to mention what her best friend had recalled about her and Stan from last night.

Wendy held in a scared shudder. There was only one way for her to find out what she needed to know.

"What happened? Last night?" she barely whispered against Stan's shoulder, "...With us? ...When we went to bed?"

Wendy couldn't see it, but as soon as the last of her timid questions reluctantly left her lips, Stan's eyes shot open like twin rockets. He almost wanted to keep hugging her and simply pretend like he hadn't heard what she said, but something told him that Wendy had almost certainly felt his body nervously stiffen against hers at the very thought of answering her.

Crap. He was sure that she had forgotten about her drunken, unexpected proposition.

"Uh..." he hummed, pulling away from Wendy as he scratched the back of his red and blue beanie, "Nothing more than usual..."

The lame offering of an explanation from him made Wendy's heart sink. Why did he suddenly sound so unsure of himself, and why was there an emotion of apprehension spread clearly across his face? What wasn't he telling her?

Swallowing down a mass of nervous vomit she could sense bubbling over the butterflies in her stomach, Wendy cleared her throat.

"Did we have sex?"

The very last syllable trickled off the end of her tongue with a terrified tone. Stan paused for a moment, his mouth parted in shock as he tried to decide how best to answer his girlfriend's question. When nothing else came to him, he could only dig up enough bravery within himself to utter one word.

"Shit..."

And just like that, Wendy felt a weight of regret completely crush her spirits.

"Oh my God, we did, didn't we?" she stuttered out, "Goddamn it, I can't believe I was so stupid and totally blew our first time like that, I - "

"Whoa, whoa, Wendy wait," Stan immediately cut her off, abruptly finding his voice again at the sounds of pure distress being expelled from his beautiful girlfriend, "Wendy, it's okay - we didn't. Of course we didn't."

Her body may have been shaking like a leaf, but as soon as Stan shot down each of her fearful suspicions and gave her arm a loving squeeze, Wendy felt herself freeze. Her brown orbs focused on the spot on her upper arm where he was holding her for a second or two, before Wendy allowed her eyesight to creep upwards and mirror his.

The supportive smile on his face told her all she needed to know. Stan was telling Wendy the truth.

"We didn't?"

He chuckled at her slightly, "No."

Wendy's chest deflated as she instantly felt a sigh of relief escape her. The unmistakable sound caused a sense of guilt to cross Stan's features as he licked his bottom lip to speak again, "I didn't mean to make you think we had, you just... I dunno', sort of _tried_ to do it, and I didn't want you feeling, like, humiliated, or anything."

Wendy frowned, narrowing her eyes at Stan, "I _tried_ to?"

Stan silently nodded his head, "You were sorta' determined."

"Bebe said the same thing this morning..." Wendy droned.

The teenage girl stopped for a moment, trying to wrap her head around all her twisted emotions. In the very next second, she felt Stan's skin tingle at her touch as she reached forward to delicately crawl her hand up under the front of his shirt, "And then when you got out of bed and we were both naked and I saw _this_ ," she went on, gently running her hand over the spot on his hip where she knew the red coloured hickey was sitting. She laughed slightly as she went on, "And I found mine too... I just kinda' assumed."

Bringing his hand up to find hers and pull it away from under his clothing, Stan laced his fingers back together with Wendy's, giggling under his breath as he did, "Oh, please, you gave me that before we even made it to the bedroom."

Spitting out a single laugh at his admission, Wendy shook her head back and forth at Stan and waited for him to tell that he was joking. When no such comment from him came, Wendy felt her sly smile drop. Stan's tone may have sounded as tormenting as ever, but the expression on her boyfriend's face told her that he was being totally genuine.

"I... you're serious?" she asked, blushing in slim embarrassment as he nodded his head at her, "So, where were we?"

The smug grin popped back up in the corner of Stan's lips as he murmured to her teasingly, "In the bathroom."

"The bath-?!" Wendy began, before she quickly cut herself off as she realised how loud her surprised shrieks were. Despite the sudden shock she felt, Wendy couldn't help but feign a slight giggle at the proud glisten of approval twinkling in her boyfriend's eyes.

Whatever else Wendy's drunken persona had made her do last night, Stan had obviously enjoyed it.

"Okay, what the hell happened?" she asked, finally laughing out loud, "Everything? What else can't I remember, what else did I do?"

Sliding closer beside her on the step, Stan hummed to himself sarcastically as he placed a loving arm around Wendy's waist. It was sort of a relief for him to hear her reacting so calmly to everything. She sure was taking the news of all her alcohol fuelled exploits rather well. Stan just needed to make sure that he was careful with how he chose to explain everything that remained.

"Well... first you followed me into the bathroom to make out with me and mark me as yours," he joked with a mischievous roll of his tongue, "But then when you could barely stand up straight any more, I took you into the guest room to go to sleep."

Sheepishly biting down on her bottom lip, Wendy swayed towards Stan as she leant into him, "Let me guess... I didn't go to sleep, did I?"

"Not even close," Stan exclaimed as he threw his head back with a laugh, "It was funny, you were being totally, crazy hot, but still, like... super beautiful at the same time."

Screeching back into speechlessness, Wendy's lips parted slightly as she kept her vision absolutely glued to Stan's. She waited for him to speak again as his eye contact sent an adoring shiver shooting up her spine. As he chewed down on the inside of his mouth, the teenage boy wasn't certain how to follow up what he had just managed to tell her. So, as he simply blew out a slow sigh, Stan bravely cleared his throat.

"And then... I dunno', you just kinda' said you wanted to do it... so I stopped you and distracted you by fulfilling your needs in... _other_ ways until you fell asleep."

For the first moment or two, Wendy's expression didn't falter. After a daunting few seconds, a frown creased into her brow above her chocolate coloured eyes, "...You stopped me?"

Stan instantly nodded his head, "Well... duh. I know how much this means to you."

The immediacy of his response sent Wendy's soul completely skyrocketing. As the weight of realisation of what she had almost done truly crashed down on her shoulders, the seventeen year old girl shuddered again. She wasn't sure if she ever would have been able to forgive herself if she had ruined such an important and amazing milestone, not only for her, but for Stan, too.

But, luckily for Wendy, the huge mistake she had made hadn't been with the wrong boy. The harrowing thought of this suddenly caused a single tear to prick the corner of her eye, "If you had been _any_ other guy..."

"But I'm not any other guy," Stan quickly cut her off, squeezing her hand again, "I'm _your_ guy. And when it happens, I don't want it to be a drunken, messy fuck up, either. It means more than that to me, too."

Wendy's heart fluttered in her chest, "I know."

"So, you don't have to worry about anything," he spoke with a laugh, finally attempting to lighten the mood, "You might have been acting like you were the one turning eighteen instead of Bebe, but you're not too much for me to handle. You, or drunk Wendy."

Echoing his chuckles as she forced down her threatening sob and quickly wiped her eyes, Wendy playfully shook her head at Stan. He comfortingly rubbed her back for a moment or two and gently pecked the crown of her head. It made her heart skip a beat. It was little, insignificant instances in their lives like these ones that reminded Wendy just why she loved him so much.

As this blissful notion calmly danced across her mind, Wendy slowly sensed her expression begin to droop. Her brow creased in deep hesitation. The last time she could recall her tummy rumbling with this many ecstatic butterflies because of her boyfriend had been last night, at her house, when she and Stan had been up in her bedroom. She remembered him zipping up her dress for her. She remembered him staring at her directly in the mirror, completely fastening his eyes with hers, and then promising her just how beautiful she was.

But, more than anything else, Wendy remembered how Stan's words had triggered something in her. It was a feeling that had abruptly told her that she needed to talk to him. And it was certainly the same feeling that she suddenly had now. It was begging her dig into the very deepest corner of her brain and tell him something she had been meaning to get off her chest for a couple of months now.

And so, as she bit down on her bottom lip and swayed with indecision for only a second longer, Wendy turned more towards Stan and took a deep breath.

"Well... turns out drunk Wendy and I have a little more in common than we thought..."

At her peculiar choice of words, Stan raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Wha'," he started with an awkward laugh, "What do you mean?"

Examining the insane amount of cuteness sitting in his wide eyes and bewildered expression, Wendy grinned sweetly at him, "Remember yesterday when I said we needed to talk?"

And then, just like that, Stan's mouth went completely dry. His mind started absolutely racing. He could almost swear that his blood was suddenly rushing throughout his veins so quickly that he was going to overdose on the intense flow of oxygen.

Stan gulped. Somehow, he was able to calm himself, even slightly. Despite the fear that still consumed him at the thought of whatever it was Wendy had been meaning to tell him all this time, he knew by now that surely she wasn't about to hurt him and break his heart. Wendy had apologised to him that morning. She had hugged him and kissed him in front of the other guys. Surely she wasn't going to just turn around and leave him right then and there.

"You know?" she probed, her impatience growing at his stubborn silence, "Right before my mom came up and she drove you to Kyle's?"

So, if she wasn't going to break up with him... what exactly _was_ Wendy trying to say?

"Uh... yeah," Stan slowly stuttered out, "Y-yeah, I remember. Why, is everything okay?"

Smirking at him with a curious tilt of her head, Wendy simply reached for Stan's hand again, "Yeah. Yeah, of course, everything's fine. I just..."

Taking just another three or four seconds of quiet as she fell back to the slimmest hesitation, Wendy tenderly squeezed Stan's hand in hers.

"I just... it wasn't just the champagne talking last night," she gently confessed, "Stan. I'm ready."

An even sharper, even more dumbfounded silence immediately screeched between them.

"You're..." Stan began with a wobbly tone, " _That's_ what you've been trying to tell me?"

Wendy frowned for a moment. That hadn't exactly been the ecstatic answer she was expecting to hear from her boyfriend. She shrugged her shoulders, "What did you think I was gonna' say?"

The sounds of slight disappointment lingering in her voice quickly made Stan's eyes widen, "Oh, no, no, it's fine, it's totally fine, it was just that..."

As he continued to wrack his brain and tried to think of the simplest way to explain to Wendy the nervous suspicions that had been suffocating him for the last day or so, Stan sighed. The last thing he wanted was to make his girlfriend think that he didn't trust her. Not after they had just made up from their ridiculous argument, and _especially_ not after Wendy had just admitted to Stan about being ready to... wait a second...

"Whoa, hold on, wait, what?"

As the penny dropped and Stan finally realised _exactly_ what Wendy had just told him, the teenage boy felt his heart begin to race under his stuttering, rushed words.

"You, uh, you mean you're really ready to... have...?"

Scrunching her nose up at him, Wendy daringly leant in towards her boyfriend and brought her voice to a tempting whisper.

"Sex."

The single word that drifted out from between her cherry coloured lips sent a thump of anticipation shooting through Stan's body. His face was completely pale white with a huge, goofy smile stretched across his mouth as he absolutely beamed at Wendy.

Giggling at him all over again, Wendy began to fidget just slightly as she awkwardly tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear, "I was thinking about telling you sooner, like, two or three months ago, but..." she trailed off, gathering her thoughts, "But I knew you were already ready, so I didn't wanna' tell you and then change my mind for some reason and disappoint you and - "

"Hey, it's okay, don't be silly," Stan interjected with a sweet smile and a shake of his head, "I'm still gonna' be here waiting for you, and I'm still gonna' be here ready to talk about everything before we make any decisions."

Feeling her fingers tingle where they were still laced together with his, Wendy sensed her chest relax as her heart beat slowed back to its regular rythym. She shivered from head to toe as Stan gently reached forward and lovingly cupped one side of her face with his hand.

She had _definitely_ made the right choice.

"So..." Stan murmured softly, "Do you wanna' talk about it?"

A giddy blush fell into Wendy's cheeks. The thought alone of her brewing sensual desires was enough to send her head into a spin - the teenage girl could only imagine how much she just might begin to crave her boyfriend's touch if she were to verbalise any of her intentions.

But, even so, as she reached up for Stan's hand and gently removed it from her face, Wendy took a deep, brave, breath.

"Well - "

"Hey, losers, are you two done with your little couple's counselling session yet?"

The sudden, sharp tone that had echoed from around the corner in the living room made both Wendy and Stan jump in slight surprise. The teenage girl's face instantly flushed an embarrassed shade of rosy pink. She bit down hard on her tongue and gawked up at Stan just as Kenny appeared beside the staircase and stepped around to face them.

"Kyle just finished cooking some grub, and then we're gonna' go down to the park to shoot some hoops and try to shake these hangovers," the blonde boy continued right along, "You two in?"

Struggling to find her voice, Wendy glanced down at her lap for a split second. She knew how much Stan loved hanging out down at the park with the guys, and he probably wanted nothing more than to get out of this house and get some fresh air. The raven haired beauty only wished that Kenny hadn't made the invite just as she had managed to finally find the courage to talk to Stan about everything she was feeling.

Noticing her disappointed expression just out of the corner of his eye, Stan smiled a soft half-smile in Wendy's direction. Slowly bringing his forefinger to the very tip of her chin, he lovingly tilted her head up and grinned affectionately at her.

"This can wait," he promised her, echoing her words to him from yesterday evening, "I'm not in any rush."

As the sadness faded from her eyes, and the uncertainty completely vanished from her face, Wendy mirrored Stan's love-struck smile as she gently shook her head back and forth at him. He was unbelievable. Totally, completely, _unbelievably_ sweet. And Wendy could never be any more thankful that Stan was all hers.

Lunging towards him and clawing his collar between her all too eager grasp, Wendy boldly plummeted her lips against her boyfriend's. She lapped at him over and over again, the both of them swapping some nervous giggles with each passionate exchange, but neither of them caring that Kenny was standing right in front of them as an incredibly unwilling witness to their moment of extreme P.D.A.

"Ew, God, okay, we all get it already!" he spat, exasperated with his friend's new found behaviour with his girlfriend, "Geez, I think I preferred it when you two were ignoring each other..."

With an annoyed roll of his eyes, Stan reluctantly parted from Wendy, chastely pecking at her lips just one more before he shot his playful glare at Kenny. As the blonde teenager only responded to his friend's menacing expression with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Wendy continued to chuckle to herself slightly. She brushed her hand against Stan's arm, sending goosebumps shooting up his skin.

"We'll talk later," she promised him in a hushed tone, matching his excitable grin. Slowly, she brought herself to her feet on the staircase, turning her attention slightly back to Kenny as she did, "I'm just gonna' run up and see if Bebe wants to come down to the park, too."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Kenny instantly retorted. He paused for a short second as a sly smirk suddenly turned up in the corner of his lips, "If you're gonna' come, just make sure you and Stan don't do any disappearing acts. We don't want a repeat of the locker room incident in the park's public bathroom, or anything, do we?"

With her foot hovering over the next step up, Wendy came to a surprised halt as she immediately whipped her head around and shot daggers at Kenny. The teenage boy had a cheeky glisten in his eye as he continued to chuckle himself, before he proudly patted Stan on the back and raced towards the kitchen again.

As she shifted her vision from the now empty living room back down to her boyfriend, Wendy narrowed her eyes at the shocked expression and pale colouring in Stan's face.

"You told them?"

"No! No, what, do you think I have a death wish, or something?" Stan instantly countered, bringing himself to his feet and climbing to the step above Wendy, " _I_ didn't tell them... _you_ sorta' did. Last night."

He waited with a nervous breath held in, but soon enough, Stan felt his tight lungs empty with relief as a small smile wriggled its way onto Wendy's face.

"Oh my God," she said with a flustered giggle, "I did?"

Stan heaved his shoulders up and down and grinned at her teasingly, "I tried to stop you, dude."

Gritting her teeth together, Wendy glanced down for a second or two to hide her embarrassed blush.

Maybe all this time Stan had been right to be sadly suspicious of Wendy's lack of public affection towards him. After all, it definitely seemed like drunk Wendy had a very different view about how she wanted the world to see her and her boyfriend together - not as a naive young couple, but as a a committed pair of young adults who were completely crazy about each other.

Flicking her head back up to face him, Wendy smiled sweetly as she took a step up and brought herself on the same level of the staircase as Stan. Lightly ticking the back of his neck, she closed her eyes and leaned in, pecking at his lips. She held the spine tingling contact for four or five loving seconds before she pulled back and shook her head at him again.

"You're lucky I love you."

Stan's heart raced. He squeezed at Wendy's hips, keeping his adoring, blue eyes on her for just a moment longer before he nodded his head towards the top of the stairs and gestured for her to go up in search of Bebe.

The very second that she smirked at him and finally vanished up to the second floor of the house, the teenage boy felt his soul truly settle for the first time since lunch time on Friday at school.

So Wendy had a bad habit a little up tight sometimes. It didn't mean Stan ever had to jump to any anxious conclusions about their relationship. He knew how she felt about him, because he only felt the exact same thing - only a million times stronger.

As her last words to him happily echoed across his mind, he brought his voice to a quiet whisper. Not only was he lucky that Wendy loved him, but Stan was just as lucky that he was blessed enough to love her, too.

"I know."

 _ **End.**_

 _-x-_

 **Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed this story of mine! What started as a teeny, tiny idea in the back of my mind became a long, amazing, six-part story. I'm super proud of how it turned out. Keep an eye out for more Stendy stories from me in the future ;)**

 **And, of course, if you've been living under a rock since 2006, go and give a listen to the song that inspired this story - _Like It's Her Birthday_ by Good Charlotte :)**

 **Please feel free to leave me a review and let me know what you thought!**

 **Till next time guys,**

 **Reneyyyyyyyy x**


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